RED WINE

The radio plays, but not the songs that once would fill the air.

Now, the radio repeats phrases:

"Kill them all."

"The blood of the Tutsis must fill the river."

"With guns, with machetes, with hands. Cleanse the land."

The radio plays for our neighbors.

The radio speaks of us.

We hide within the house of a God - a God that, perhaps, works in mysterious, inhumane ways. A God that has killed thousands of us already, and promises the death of more. We are safe here, in this house of God, hidden from our enemies, hidden from our neighbors. Hidden from the river.

The river is red.

The radio plays.

"Kill them," it tells our neighbor, then tells of our location.

"Let none escape," the radio says.

The radio plays.

The river is red.

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