A Soldier's Last Cigarette

On one side of the barracks there a man can be seen smoking, glancing the smoke's reflection on a broken window's shard. Darkness begans to suffocate the light, no longer can the man feel the smoke nor see himself in light's absence. The man is sweaty and the night feels heavier and warmer every second. It appeared as if air itself was paralized within the barracks, not even the sounds of gunfire, all which remains is silence. A silence which is only interrupted briefly due to the man of agitated breathing who begans to forget his own face. Slowly but surely he could feel how his body disappeared, sorrounded little by little with shadows, engulfed in fear of being forgotten, even though the only one who could ever remember him was himself. His past vanished with one big exhalation of smoke, his present is now irrelevant. Within the darkness which sorrounded him, he encounters a weak beam of light, it was his handgun. Just one bullet left, he holds his gun firmly pointing to his own head, and he finished his last cigarette.

Author's Note

Ignore bad grammar, if any.

Reviews

[deeps]

Oh My! This was intense really, then I got to the end, And had a laugh.
This is wonderful, like your style!