I.
the news came to them like a broken promise, from radios, televisions, the mouths of teachers, preachers, and parents. it hurt so much that they swallowed it down before they had time to believe, but with each breath, it pounded back like a heartbeat headline: he's dead, he's dead, he's dead.
II.
tragic has six letters. it took six days for the empire of rome to burn, six days for the families of romeo and juliet to wipe the blood off their hands long enough to paint their children's names into the stars. but in america, it only took thirty minutes and three gunshots for a castle to crumble into eternal flame. fifty years later, and i can still smell the smoke when i open my windows at night.
III.
truthfully, i was nowhere. i wasn't even a thought inside my mother's belly let alone a human on the inside of camelot's towers. but my father was in grade school and watched as the radio broadcast caused an entire nation to break down into tears.
IV.
they saw it filtered through the grain of black and white, but it was pink. pink dancing down the steps of the airplane, pink smiling over the texan crowd, pink turning back to reach hopelessly for a moment when it was still pink. even once it was stained with her husband's blood, she refused to take it off. the world stood witness in monochrome, but they knew what had been done was red.
V.
truthfully, i was everywhere. i was inside of the bullet, flying at over 6000 miles per hour but only traveling a few feet to reach my target. i was sitting next to the wife of connally, who held her husband so tightly that she saved his life. i was inside of the radio waves, traveling faster than bullets, faster than light, faster than love to tell america the news.
VI.
on november 22, 1963, it was sunny. the car overflowed with bouquets of red and yellow roses, the streets teemed with people hoping to glimpse a piece of history. when the president heard, you certainly can't say dallas doesn't love you from the front seat, he smiled into the sea of faces and replied, no you certainly can't. when the bullets hit him seconds later, they felt like fireworks.
VII.
truthfully i am still there, reliving the moment with every breath i take. relearning that camelot has been lost with every morning i wake up to news headlines proclaiming the falling of castles, the continuing of wars, the decline of empires. rome burned in six days, but it only took 30 minutes to burn the american dream.
| a synthetic-synaesthesia × flythevinyl collaboration.
