An arrow
Is all it took to flabbergast me
I’m standing still
In the middle of the supermarket
By the frozen peas
With three items in my hand
And none of them matter anymore

It wasn’t sharp
Not in the way knives are
But in the way a sentence can be
When you weren’t ready
And your name was in it

There were no wings on its shaft
No warning
Just the weight of your voice
Typed and sent

A heart attack.