The following is in response to Brian Turner’s “The Inventory From A Year Lived Sleeping With Bullets.”
This piece of flash prose is filled with tension. All the images of war—rifles, pieces of brain on the dashboard, torture fragments—keeps the tension flowing; there is just something about war that, when done right, creates a lot of tension, like when you read that there is a chainsaw humming at the beginning of a story and the whole time you’re wondering who is going to loose a finger in Brian’s short you think who is going to get shot?
There are a lot of intense images here. In particular I like how he gives us a window into the violence that he witnessed—“A dead infant…the fresh dark soil over the bodies.” Also, the way that Turner shows the passage of time is quite unique—“The minutes. The hours. Days. Weeks. Months. The moments unbound by time’s dominion. The years after.” I might have to steal this one.
At the end of Turner’s short, the speaker “Put[s] it all in the rucksack” as if to say that even though he is no longer faced with the violence of war, it is still with him; it is still in his consciousness. This is an interesting flash of insight that gives the entire piece its meaning.