Washington, D.C., residents are traumatized and war weary.
Not from the sort of fatigue caused by the eternal conflicts being waged in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Out of sight, out of mind.
It is the sheer horror, rather, elicited by occasional helicopters flying to and from bases scattered throughout the region that have become unbearable to those at the mercy of a seemingly interminable rotary blade.
So terrible is the swarm of choppers that some residents of the nation’s capital are likening it to “living in a war zone," according to one local interviewed by the Washington Post, who then described conditions as reminiscent of the cataclysmic 'Nam hellscape made famous in “Apocalypse Now.”
Life in the D.C. bush is cruel and unforgiving.
The tuka-tuka-tuka-tuka of helicopters thunder overhead relentlessly, a terrifying interruption of the zen tranquility that comes from ordering a dandelion medley tea and gluten-free banana bread, both considered good for new beginnings.