When the Reckoning Comes

by LaTanya McQueen

She felt shame for participating, for coming and being complicit. She felt shame for the circumstances that had led to a place like this existing. Shame for the realization that even after all these years of progress, this was where we’d come, to this corrupted version of the past we all thought we’d left behind.

Mira had tried, had spent a decade trying, but a person can’t run away from who they are. Soon enough, what’s been buried will rear itself again.

The ritual this country perfected. They would take this body apart, limb from limb, each of them marking their own pieces to keep. Twenty-five cents for a fragment of bone. Ten cents for the bit of liver. How much for the heart? How much? they would cry, their greedy hands grabbing, each of them wanting their choice. They would touch and fondle the flesh as it was bartered and sold. They would yank the teeth from the jaw, laughing at the crack of bones. They would take. They wanted to devour. They wanted to consume. When they were done, they would set what remained on fire.