The bomber held his hands out, palms up. She then noticed how familiar and handsome he was.” These are the first lines of a tragedy.
He used these same hands to break bread and to fashion things of good purpose.
“I remember you now -- you made great sandwiches,” she said. The bomber smiled, showing perfect teeth and healthy gums.”
The delicatessen was still in operation. The floors were spotless and the bathrooms unequalled.
The bomber carefully refilled the birdfeeder with sunflower seeds and a particular type of avian candy purchased from his Aunt’s place. He carefully closed the door, holding the deadbolt open, preventing it from clanging into place as it had want to do -- he didn’t want to wake her. She worked most days eleven to fourteen hours.
He walked to the chosen place.
The banality of his path there was obvious only to those watching from Olympus. Others saw him as big, oddly profound.
His sadness and evil were a projection. Built of words bought and paid for. Truth dangled: spangly and dangly starred and stripped, John Philip Souzaed – heaven and paradise awaited for some, others stumbled to strap on the tragic, predictable plow, to sow further horror into a wide-eyed earth.
An eye for an eye is sexy. It sells.
The answer is not easy or known but we should be searching.
For it.