Pray, Mourn, Repeat

By Sheila Morris

The day was as perfect as only autumn days can be when she drove out of her driveway to the grocery store. Sunday had to be her day to buy groceries since she worked as a paralegal five days a week and visited her mother in the nursing home on Saturdays. The parking lot at the grocery store was crowded as she pulled into an open space. She didn’t hear the shot that hit her head dead center, but her horn blared as she slumped against the steering wheel and became a statistic of another mass murder in her country.