The

Bullet

my winning story

There I lay, the gun shot still ringing in my ear. All sense of time is distorted as the seconds lengthen, the very earth stopped to a crawl to watch this unholy act. The bullet slows in my eyes.

Why did I bring her here?

My love standing loose, suspended by the grip of the Reaper after suffering the torment of hands and blows as if a storm of rocks. She moves in slow motion to witness the deadly event.

Why did she say yes?

Seconds seemed more of hours as the bullet draws closer to its target. The wind tauntingly surrounds it, as if laughing at my stupidity. It begins to enter her left breast, the one holding her heart, penetrating its beautiful curves.

How could I have been so stupid?

The blood trails out like the ribbon of a spear driven in. Her face glistening in the moonlight, mouth open to breath her dieing breath. Terror. Pain. Sadness, all reflecting in her eyes.

Would she have said yes if she knew?

The blood falls, coloring every thing red in it’s greediness. It’s hands falls on my eye, for not for my own blood would it have more to taint.

In that moment, as tear mates with blood, a red hue is thrown over my eyes. The stars grew closer as the very sky dropped. Five stars grow brighter, purer, than the rest.

I hear the song you sung when we first meet. The forest, the sky, the ground, and the moon joined the melody as the angels floated down to carry their sister away to that paradise of clouds.