The Beautiful sky

A Story by Ted

A guy.

The pain had all but subsided. The physical, ripping, wretched pain had retreated back to it’s cave, snarling and spitting �" eager to torture soon again. A man laid, catching his breath, inhaling deep gulps of air, sporadically cut by faint whimpers of fear. He was alone, and though it took him a few minutes to agree with this, he still cried. Reluctantly, he wrestled his eyes away from the sky. The beautiful sky.
He looked to his wound, far too drenched in the red liquid to be located. The quick glance was enough to reignite his cries, only this time he cut them off with a laugh, which was replaced by a tired look. His eyes rolled back to the sky. The beautiful sky.
He had been shot �" left alone on the cold street. The smile had come to him when he realized the truth behind the idea “It’s funny what you think of when you’re dying.” He had just thought, “My jacket! I just bought this damn jacket!” The sadness returned to him after he concluded his fate. All he could do was stare at the sky. The beautiful sky.

He thought of his elementary school, of his old teachers, those poor suckers, and if they were etching into the minds of another class of students. He wondered if they were getting ready for Christmas break, decorating their class rooms and handing out coloring pages for the season. Those were his favorite, those coloring pages. He gave them every bit of attention and effort he could muster. Staying in the lines. Following the rules. One year, he even printed out his own page and colored it differently from the other students. He spent all week on it, in fact, and at the end he signed it and left it on his teacher’s desk. He hadn’t done it for himself, but so she had something to hang on her fridge like all of the parents. He thought his mind off, taking any chance to digress, to detach, to dilute. The unfortunate wounded man floated through memories of the holidays, of his childhood, of staying in the lines. He thought of anything and everything that helped him forget what he had done to get in this situation. He had done this to himself, and he knew that. Any man willing to hold a family up at gun point for a few dollars deserves to be shot. He only wished he could think the bad away, as his gaze lingered up. He only wished to ascend into the sky. The beautiful sky.