Bobbi sits the head in her lap, loops thread through needle. “We’ll wrap a turban around it.” She licks the needle point, begins to stitch. “Paint the face a dusty brown.”

“Wouldn’t that be a little offensive?” Tamra asks as she shifts the heavy camera onto her right shoulder. “A dead Muslim in the middle of town square?”

“What will be offensive is how people react to it.” When the cloth is securely fastened to the dummy’s crown, Bobbi folds it like a napkin.

“If I saw what I thought was a dead man in the street, I’d be scared.”

Bobbi sighs, looks up at the mute television. Four balding white men fill the screen, one pounds his fist on the table. Kill radical Islam, the subtitles read, we can talk about gun control later.

“That’s the difference between us and them.” Bobbi points. “All we see is a man.”

word count: 150


img_0797Written for VisDare, a weekly challenge to craft a story based on the provided photo in 150 words or less.

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