Red Dot

I believed this to be a silent place.
I believed this to be the single space where nothing could reach me.
But the cries are deafening and the punches are coming from all over.
It's an obscure path, this one before me.
The sight of the sniper is set for my temple.
Is it doubt?
The red dot pivots, but remains close, like a fly on trash.
It was never meant to be a public ride, but with all the noise around, no one will ever listen.
The shot will be muffled by the thick and palpable tension in the room.
No one will be seated for the next show.

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