How it Happened

A beautiful spring day.
The sun warm after the long winter.
The breezes blow steady from the south,
caressing our bare arms and cheeks.

The little hairs on our bodies stand up and pay attention.
The little green shoots push up through the moist, dark soil.
The green is the newest green.
The blue is the freshest blue.

And the light! Soft and playful and dappled, bending through the branches above our heads.
And the sounds! Joyous from every small throat. And throats all around singing crazy love
songs.
And the smells! Pungent resins drifting from the cottonwood trees. Pitch oozing through the pine
bark. Intoxicating. Maddening. Sexual.

A beautiful spring day.
We stand against the garden wall.
They shoot us.