BOOM. Your boat explodes.
What the shit?! What is happening?!
BOOM. Your boat explodes.
You are burned, and blasted into the air and then before you can think - you are plunged violently into the Caribbean Sea.
You flail about, trying to swim back up to the surface. But which way is up? You figure that out quickly enough as your boat’s fiery debris rains down into the water all around you.
You narrowly avoid getting clobbered by a splintered piece of hull with a few quick strokes as you try to make your way back to the surface. Something is wrong with your left leg.
You reach the surface, gasping and sputtering for air. What the fuck? I mean - you’ve seen the news stories. America, “the land of the free,” has reportedly been on an all out campaign to hurt your nation. But you didn’t think that they would actually fire on your fishing boat. What the shit?
As you are thinking, and trying to process the last few seconds, you realize that you have somehow managed to grab on to a piece of floating debris that ISN’T still on fire. The air is choked with smoke. The smell of blood mixes with the acrid burning, saltwater, and gasoline in your nostrils.
PEREZ!! There’s Perez!! Holy shit!!
You do a sort of weak doggy paddle over to your crew member who is also coughing and spluttering as you did. You wrap your arm around Perez, and awkwardly make some one-arm swim strokes back to your floating debris.
You help Perez take hold, and see that he’s bleeding from the head. You check his wound, it’s not too bad. Just an abrasion. Holy shit. Where are the others?!
You hang on to the piece of debris, and chat with Perez for a moment. You both cannot believe what just happened. You both scan the wreckage for other crew mates. You don’t see anyone else. It’s hazy - smoke from the burning wreckage makes it hard to see. You realize more urgently that your leg hurts, and you’re coughing again.
But… YOU ARE ALIVE. And Perez is alive. Holy shit. You’re just hanging on for life, floating somewhere in the Caribbean Sea. You praise God with Perez, thinking that maybe that you both were granted a mercy. Your whole crew… gone? Maybe they are somewhere. You just didn’t see them yet. Maybe they are out there. They have to be. As you float for a few more moments, you realize that your leg might be really hurt as it is throbbing with pain.
There is a God. And somehow, she has saved you and at least one of your ship mates. You are going to be alright. You are going to be able to make it home and see your wife Sofia. You begin sobbing uncontrollably, just hanging on for dear life. Beautiful Sofia…
But THERE IS NO GOD. There is only WhiskiPete Hegseth. And the criminal Trump Regime. And the war criminals of the US military that did this to you. And WhiskiPete could not even be bothered, according to his account, to watch you bleed in the sea, clinging on for dear life. He had “another meeting” he had to go to.
A blistering explosion rocks through your body and tears you apart into a fine red mist. Your last thoughts… are of your darling wife who may never learn of what has happened to you.
(FICTION, inspired by the VERY REAL crimes of the Trump Regime.)



My country, no longer. Deeply sorrowful and ashamed.