True Love of Coffee

I was cold, even though the warm summer wind was blowing across my neck. My hands were covered in blood and I looked at Ray for a moment as I tried to keep going. I could see desperation in his eyes, the acceptance that we had failed in our duty to save someone. I couldn’t feel my arms anymore. My hands felt like ice, the gash on my leg had lost a lot of blood over the past few hours yet I had found some strength to keep going through the motions of breathing for someone else. My chest gave me a feeling like I had broken a rib, but I knew that I was well. The pain wasn’t from my bones, it was from a conflicting spirit and a damned soul. I simply didn’t know who was being damned and who was being saved.

I remember the look in Ray’s eyes, and the look I saw in the man. I swear that there was a reflection there for a moment when I was lost. Circumstance and fate.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, March 20th, 2007 at 3:26 am and is filed under Creative Writing, Loss, Survival. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.