Volume 27, Number 3

Embedded, Engulfed 1992

Even today, our screens emit the underwater green. TV news still looks same as Xbox. Smart bombs were sinuous as ferrets, cold and muscular as eels, flew down chimneys into a joyous maze of air ducts, solving the puzzles like prodigies. They found their targets sure as water, glorious as Space Invaders. We watched the screen safe as houses, safe from terror of random Arabs. The bombs always knew which one was the target. They shook their POVs side to side, nope, keep going, let that one alone. Smarter than you or I, and so much faster. It was Fourth of July every time we turned on the news, fireworks like bonus points, a three-day-weekend of a war. There were no undisclosed locations. No blasted weddings, no striking back. All was pixels. All was well.

—Karen Greenbaum-Maya