I came home from picking my son up from school and turned my computer on. And found out about Boston.
Dear God…
I’m checking the news and Facebook behind J’s back, because I’m not up for explaining domestic terrorism (or international terrorism, or whatever-the-fuck kind of terrorism it is) to a six-year-old who can’t deal with the first ten minutes of Wall-E (I don’t like this, Mommy. Turn it off.). I want him to sleep tonight.
I’m not sure I will. I looked at one of the pictures of the scene. The blood on the ground. The debris that may or may not have been dismembered limbs. Then I closed the tab, because WHY am I doing that to myself?
Circlet is based out of Boston. I know Cecelia is okay, because she’s tweeting information on closures and discoveries. (A third device? A related attack at the JFK Library?) If she’d tweeting this calmly, then Corwin must be okay, too. I heard from one of the Jennifers, but not yet from Jen Blackmore, my editor. So I’m fretting about my Circlet family.
One of my coven sisters posted that her son had been at the finish line, and left a half an hour before the bomb(s) went off. It took him over an hour to get a call through to her to let her know he was alive and okay. A friend of mine here in Florida posted that her sister was there, too, and is safe.
I’m praying for the people who still don’t know. And the people who will get some crushing news today.
And I’m praying that the bastards who did this burn.
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Yes. To everything you said. Just. Yes.