The World Is Not A Cold Dead Place

And I am finally afraid to die.

Wind like static whipped in his ears and the world around him seemed completely leeched of color, like everything good and bright had drowned in the rain and roaring tide.

 This is a story of a man, at the end of the road, a high ledge, a steep drop,
The edge at the end of the line.
Whose final words and  last resort was yelling "is anyone out there." into the dead space surrounding him.
which gave him a last ironic half smile, because he realized he'd been doing just that all his life.
so he upped his game and yelled louder then he had before
then louder,
and louder,
louder still, until it was a scream.
until it burned.
his lungs were black and practically ashes themselves from all the years he'd smoked.
he's started so young.
but now was the first time he'd ever regretted it.
Ironic,
because maybe, if he could just scream louder.
maybe he might get a reply.
anything.
but there was just silence.
fists clenched and a ragged breath was stolen from the night.
The world is a cold dead place.
The clam descended as he closed his eyes.



"yes!
there is still life on this rock
don't jump!"
it was her, and until the moment she had yelled he hadn't noticed the shape of a person across the lake.
now he did and guilt hit him like a bullet.
"hello!" he yelled.
"hello!"
this was the last thing he wanted, he didn't want to effect any more lives     didn't want to ruin any more lives, ever again.
"goodbye"
"no!"
he really thought he was going to jump.
His knees tensed wanting that jump, and his heart raced--almost in giddy anticipation.
and he hated the irony of thinking it--but he had been dead serious.
he thought he was going to jump.
but he didn't.
he ran.
as hard and fast as he could.
now
this is not a story where the character can magically run like captain America.
like I told you, his lungs were bad, and he'd been living off a balanced diet of black coffee and cancer sticks, for what seemed like forever.
I won't bullshit you for dramatic effect.
he didn't run like that for long.
finally he just walked and he wondered what had over come him.


half of him wanted to meet her.
wanted to be found;

But when the night lit up behind him he hid and watched her run to the place he'd been
standing and frantically look over the edge.
he stayed hidden like that, crouched behind some scrubs,
until he was sure she would not be coming for him.
he always enjoyed being a coward like that.

he exhaled and sprawled out on the wet grass and mud.
Then he realized, at his core, he was not a person who wanted to be found.
A small smile creeped at the corner of his mouth as he looked up at the sky alive with signs and stars.

Reviews

[Elwyn]

The narration in this is unique and utterly flawless. I loved it in its entirety, particularly now you broke the lines to make it read like poetry. what a fascinating concept. She saved him without ever knowing it.

[Percy]

I've never really thought of my writing like that it's simply the way my mind works.
thank you for the unique and lovely review.