A scream ricocheting from tree to tree, finally splitting the hairs between my ears and parting the beats of my heart.
The violence continues and there seems to be no end, no reason, no logic whatsoever for their sudden bursts of insanity.
I see them in town, in a store, holding hands, talking low.
No reason to believe their lives are in shambles. No reason to believe their lives could touch me in any way. No reason to believe they will be quiet tonight.
No reason, there just is no reason that I can see for the hatred that erupts like a volcano in the quiet of the night. The heated emotions that split the quiet. The lava that rockets its way into my life.
And still there is no quiet or reason. And there is no reason I should remain quiet.
[Ed. note: This wasn't a contest submission but it certainly is a fine example of a short-short story.]