hitting close to home.

Nothing hit closer to home than the bomb that dropped in October. We were out for the night, but the dogs were huddled under our grandma's Victorian couch when we got home, their bodies preferring the floorboards like never before. The neighbors said it hit two blocks left of the bakery, and that when it did, the front windows blew out like an oceans of glass, washing out over the concrete walks. The bomb got everyone's attention at the same time. I couldn't believe how together we were in that moment--a sound and tragedy that left nobody out.