Flashing Before Your Eyes
My first time. My last time.
My cold beer in my hand, numbing my fingers. The cigarette perched in the corner of my mouth.
The door to my trailer swinging on rusted hinges. The blinds rattling about in the heat-driven wind.
No animals. No birds.
The squeak of strained vinyl in my lawn chair. The once cold water in the kiddie pool at my feet.
My tank top undershirt clinging to my sweaty girth. My dog tags stuck to my sweaty chest.
Leafless trees rattling like rattlesnakes in the wind. The heat rising every minute.
A beautiful woman next to me in bed. She rolls over and pushes the sheets away. I sigh and take a deep breath of the fragrance of her hair. She smiles, comes to my side of the bed.
The agonizing memory in my head. The tear rolling down my cheek. The taste of beer in my throat.
The people running by. The screams in the air. The cars burning in the street.
The trampled lawn. The discarded luggage and forgotten dreams.
People praying. People begging.
The fire reaching, coming closer.