On Surviving an ICE Raid Without Health Insurance

[dukealien]

On Surviving an ICE Raid Without Health Insurance

They came for me at noon. I was eating tuna fish and
crackers, had just spread the relish carefully when my
front door exploded. The men, a stream of skully masks
and military contraband, barked a stream of orders nobody
could understand. Held my little Bassett hound at gunpoint
just for kicks. It didn’t really work: he got exhausted
running willy-nilly there between the leather trees, 
the jungle of their boots. Kept hollering a storm, the baby
just wanted to play. “Shut him up,” the leader said,
a Christmas tree with ammo belts, then leaned back
on the trigger. A crack, a smell of phosphorus, then
everything was wind. I woke up in a field of blood, bullets 
spread around like grain, my best friend licking at the wound 
that didn’t even hurt. The roof was gone, you could see
the sky spread out for miles. Walked out on the front porch,
the mailman handed me my life.

This is wonderfully imaginative, and that (to me) is the point.  The metaphor of big men as trees is used twice, but since it's to the trunk (boots) and upper body (imagined Pancho Villa ammo belts as garlands)  and well separated, I think this should get a pass.

The break at "leaned back on the trigger" is important but incoherent.  "Eased" might work, but some other mechanism to set off the (unwitnessed) mad minute would really be better.  Maybe the postman knocking brainlessly at the kicked-in door?  I also quibble at "phosphorus," though since it's a dream it could just as well be.  More like burnt cocoa, though it varies.  The narrator may be thinking of a struck wooden match - that's phosphorus.

The dreamscape is beautifully drawn:  roof off, "bullets" strewn around (how about twinkling brass, finger-shaped, blackened and discolored at their empty little mouths?) as it descends into complete improbability (roof off?  what are these guys, storm gods raising tornados?)  And then the nightmare resolves into what he was really worried about - his Medicare is approved!  Life can begin again.

The basset hound is perfect - a touch of overt humor in the middle of ironic overkill.  And exactly how he'd behave.

How this could be improved:  there are a lot of people out there who think a SWAT or ICE raid is really like this and wouldn't be surprised until the postman shows up.  That could be strengthened (by adding more detail) but the light touch is best.  However, some will be nodding along so hard they'll blip right over the postman and think it wasn't all in fun.  Is that a problem?  You don't want to beat them over the head with its being imaginary.  As is, it's something everyone can enjoy after his own weird.  It has impact, you may just want to adjust where it hits.