EXPLOSIVES

The Bomb Technician

By Keesa Wynne

It was the one call that Bomb Technicians’ dread;

The one call that chillingly forces them from their beds;

The one call that immediately tips their entire world on its head.

The voice on the line rapidly relayed what the Bomb Technician feared.

After having his name tarnished, and reputation continually smeared,

The elusive serial bomber, Love, had distressingly reappeared.

No longer willing to live cloaked in caverns, Love reemerged above ground

With a puzzling set of clues where a hidden bomb could be found.

The final fateful clue: Bomb Technician, follow the ominous ticking sound.

The Bomb Technician had played this little game with Love before;

Another cat & mouse game with Love felt like a cruel, unnecessary chore.

Just as she hung up the phone, she heard a faint ticking outside her door.

Unbeknownst to her, during the night as she soundly slept,

Love secretly infiltrated her home and silently crept.

She knew Love had her in his trap; she had to be careful where she stepped.

With each tick, the she felt a growing tightness in her chest.

She screamed out, “Why God are you letting Love me put me again through this test?”

“Damn, I’m doing my best. I don’t want to play any more games; I just want to rest.”

The Bomb Technician frantically fumbled for the light switch so she could safely embark

Into the hallway. But Love cut the electricity – she was frighteningly entombed in the dark.

Love had to make a grand statement, and the Bomb Technician was his perfect mark!

She dried her falling tears and steadied her shaking hands

As she desperately searched for the emergency flashlight buried in her nightstand.

She tried to keep her wits about her, but her nerves were barely hanging on by a strand.

The flashlight cut through the imposing darkness and cast an eerie yellow glow;

Love’s malevolent metronome with each tick wickedly welcomed her to Love’s final show.

She knew at any minute the planted bomb could unexpectedly blow.

With her glasses now affixed to her face, she was no longer blind.

For a second, she imagined how this last game would end; the pain and uncertainty wracked her mind.

Love was a master bomb-maker; she was unsure of what style bomb she would find.

She had no choice but to answer Love’s daunting dare;

She imagined him sitting in the darkness; watching her from her beloved armchair.

With her equipment locked in her truck, she had to face this final crisis bare.

As she entered the long hallway, the ominous ticking sound started getting faster;

Before she reached the bomb, she heard the loud voice of the bomb’s master.

A voice that reverberated so loudly that it dislodged pieces of the wall’s plaster.

“Bomb Technician, you are the best in the biz.”

“Only you can solve this little quiz.”

“Don’t disappoint me, I know you are a whiz.”

Triggered; she refused to have her pristine record blemished;

Love started this little game, but it would be her that successfully finished.

As the adrenaline pumped through her veins, her confidence refused to be diminished.

She scoured the strange structure of Love’s ticking threat;

The complex design made her palms immediately drip with sweat.

Love deviated from his signature – her lack of full armor made her heart fret.

With each passing second, the situation grew increasingly dire.

She knew that cutting the wrong-colored wire

Would immediately detonate the explosives and engulf her life’s work in fire.

As her fingers frenziedly traced each component her mind drifted back to the place

Where she first encountered Love; that haunted sacred space;

The space where Love’s first bomb almost blew up in her face.

She had to take aggressive calculated action

To immediately disarm this confusing contraption,

But she couldn’t decipher key components from built-in distractions.

She violently hit the bottom of the flashlight as its glow dimmed;

Her panic peaked as the situation turned frighteningly grim.

As a trained expert, she was skilled in executing critical decisions on a whim.

The bomb was covered in a wicked set of wires; red, yellow and blue

The Bomb Technician prayed to God – asking him what she should do

With each tick, her desperation alarmingly grew.

God did not give her the answer she so badly craved;

He told her she no longer had to be eternally enslaved

To the fear that prevented her from being saved.

She rejoiced

As God presented her with the ultimate choice;

She found extreme comfort in the sound of his voice.

She could remain dazed or she could be unfazed.

The key to disarming this bomb was already built into this intricate maze;

Her defiant soul knew tonight’s game would not end in an epic blaze.

She held her breath as she tightened her grip

On the basic wire cutters that helped her strip

The deploy wires away – she could not afford any mistakes or slips.

Love congratulated the Bomb Technician on the loudspeaker;

But with two wires left, her will had turned ominously weaker.

In an instant, the whole situation felt super heavy and bleaker.

It all came down to a choice of two wires: blue or red.

She just wanted to be back in her cozy bed.

This choice would determine if she would be alive or dead.

With her eyes closed tight, she asked her soul what choice was right.

She only hoped to escape this darkness; to find the light.

As she clamped down on the wire, it filled her heart with fright.

The Bomb Technician felt her anxiety decrease;

Miraculously, she had finally found her perpetual peace.

As she heard the terrifying ticking, eternally cease.