The Dry Wake of Orchestrated Illuminated Rounds

The steam of morning is threatened by an insect flying from one branch to another, the ground pauses as a human finger flips the safety off on his weapon. The flick of the safety sounds like waves crashing against a distant shore in the silence. The silence is deafening until the jungle erupts in gunfire and screams. From the trees snake recoils back to a higher branch as bits of human bone is torn from under the skin littering the blood soaked ground. In the distance insects bend a leaf in order to capture the nectar of a flower growing wild. The insects used to the sound of gunfire go about their routine always aware of the movement nearby. Leaves that had an hour ago turned themselves upside down to drink from the light rainfall that fell are now imperceptibly moving ever so slowly unseen by human eye to their original position before being torn to shreds by bullets from a North Vietnamese soldiers weapon as he falls back to the ground after being shot in the neck by a ricochet.

- Chris Mansel