I am a playwright. So this is how I am filtering the horrid news of today’s events in Connecticut.

“27 Dead”
(A short play)

SCENE: A typical elementary school in Connecticut. A young man has just murdered 25 people, including his mother, a teacher at the school, with a high-powered, semi-automatic handgun. Walking through a classroom littered with bodies, shattered glasses and shards of mangled furniture, he approaches a 10-year-old child named Guadalupe…)

The Shooter: Do you know my name?

Guadalupe: No, sir.

The Shooter: I am death’s messenger, and I am free to kill. I have the power.

Guadalupe: (staring at the bullet-riddled corpse of little girl in bright yellow dress) Her name is Karen. She’s my best friend. Can you help her?

The Shooter: No…I can’t do that. This is how it ends. You’re too young to understand. Don’t you see, I have the power. (gazing at the smoldering weapon in his right hand.) This is how it ends.

Guadalupe: My name is Lupita. (struggling to hold back her tears.) Please tell my mommy that I love her? And my daddy, too. Please…

(A slow fade to black)

End of play