The Bombs

The first explosion bloodies the legs of everyone at the sidewalk cafe.
A bomb filled with screws and nails, covered in rat poison to keep the wounds bleeding.
Smoke and screams, cries for help.
Bind them with napkins and tablecloths until help arrives.
That’s when the second explosion happens.
They meant for it to kill medics and police and the doctors who rushed to help.
Afterwards, the men in bright reflective vests, gathering shredded limbs and bone and fingers, toes in a baby’s shoe, where is the other one, bagging them up, sending them off.
So nobody is buried unwhole.

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