On the television screen, the live broadcast of the Orlando riot was like a frenzy of visual spectacle, with shots switching rapidly at a suffocating pace.
Flaming streets, dumpsters burning fiercely, the roar of helicopters, the howls of rioters, and the figure recklessly riding a heavily equipped Harley.
For viewers miles away, it was undoubtedly an exhilarating feast, with social media full of jokes about "Florida doesn't keep idle hands."
But for the residents of downtown Orlando, this "feast" was horrifying, like a blade hanging over their heads.
Hari sat on the old sofa in the living room, the fluorescent light from the TV cast on her tense face, flickering light and shadow.
The house had long been closed up, heavy curtains drawn tightly, and the door lock checked several times.
However, she knew if the rioters broke in, she and her elderly grandmother would be powerless to resist.
