Word for Word: Guilt
I’m in a writers’ group that meets on Zoom, though before the pandemic we met in person. Every week, we do a writing prompt: someone gives a page number, and our organizer picks a word from a huge dictionary. We write for five minutes. In this example, the word is: Guilt, Guilty, Guiltless.
I read on the social media platform Nextdoor a post about a next-door neighbor — apartment neighbor, no less — having a swastika in their front window. (I mention “apartment” because that means the Nazi is… right there, probably sharing a wall.) I wasn’t shocked. But I didn’t anticipate many comments from complacent batshits claiming this hate speech is “free speech,” claiming the neo-Nazi was “doing no harm,” and essentially telling her to mind her own business.
One troll kept posting abusive comments. I muted and blocked this troll… but minutes later I felt guilty because I didn’t report him before blocking. I also wished I’d commented: “Projecting your fascism onto your scapegoat fails to magically transfer it. And by relentlessly lashing out at someone for simply reporting a neo-Nazi neighbor who of course makes her feel unsafe, you proved you’re a neo-Nazi.”
Where I’ve been published this year:
- My poem “Bonsai Tree” in the webzine Grim & Gilded, September 2022 issue.