Laughter and revelry permeated the ceremony. At least until the explosion. Red balloons, firecrackers, a brass band and the entirety of the Mayoral staff were in attendance as the coffin was marched from the back of a flatbed truck into the midst of Portland’s South Waterfront Square. The coffin was an ostentatious thing, painted in red and gold, with the lid cracked open just enough to expose large Papier-Mache ears and giant snout, complete with whiskers and buck teeth. The laughter was misplaced, though the participants at the City’s mock funeral celebrating the beginning of “Vector Control Week” could not have foreseen the devastation about to befall the event. After all, when is frivolity at a mock funeral interrupted by domestic terrorism? Particularly unaware were two young men who would eventually “claim” responsibility for the explosion. Not…
“Vector Control,” A Short Story by Micah Thorp
