Axiom

a bit of free writing

Axiom

 

There’s this moment when you’re staring down the barrel of a gun only you can see. In that moment the world stands still and between breathes you pause, and come to a unique understanding that what came before will never come again. Those thoughts that drifted to and fro, smiles caught between friends and lovers, the hand that once reached for yours, these things are forever lost.

The day may be like any other. Devoid of significance but for this one moment spurred on my nothing but the truth that makes it so. It may come about in the early morning as you wake, over mundane daily tasks, or just as your eyes close for the last time.

Between breathes, the air is gone from your lungs and beginning to inhale is a chore. The gun’s light sucks the oxygen out of the air that you need - a back draft pulling your heart forward and out of your chest so that you can observe the beating no longer in sync with a frozen world. Still beating defiantly expectantly - why does it do so? Why doesn’t it stop, so attuned as it is to the happenings that make it kind or bitter?

Still with empty lungs, eyes slide up from your heart to the gun, held by a shadow with one hand on the trigger and the other reaching for your heart - just try it, you dare. Surprised by your own voice ringing out in the stillness, echoing off the broken dreams and scattered photographs, the memories resurface and dance before your eyes, creating a shield between the gunman and your heart. They wrap themselves around you and even as the gun goes off and the world resumes its motion you still feel their warmth - warmth that fills you as you finally inhale.

The beating of your heart pounds on - pressing against your throat, but the scent of lingering memories makes you lift your head high and look to the sun.