People’s Eye
by Greg Baines
1
I couldn’t see very clearly. He looked scared to me. But the light was poor, image grainy. Beads of sweat could be lost in fuzzy electronic noise, twitches of facial muscles impossible to tease out.
My wife came in after tucking the kids in and saw me squinting at the screen, cup of hot chocolate in her hand. She smiled when she saw me and said, “You look like an old curtain twitcher.” I laughed.
2
We were in down town weren’t we? Watching on the sky screens above the tube. I couldn’t believe it, the force of it. I remember you fell against me, really, you actually stumbled… you don’t remember? Well I remember, it made me sick to my stomach. Fire and screaming and silence as someone pulled the images and the screens flashed to some stupid bloody cooking program. We all had the chills then. You wanted us to get home, you were afraid of the open streets after that. On the tube I couldn’t get the fire out of mind, and seeing… human… on the street. In our time.
He deserves it. If you ask us, I know I shouldn’t speak on behalf of you, love, but I saw your face. You had nightmares all week. He deserves whatever he gets, anyone who does that. Anyone.
