A trip is not a fall. A measly little moment lacking of acutely honed and constant focus does not mean an end. Time was always working against him. It worked to peel away the glossy sheen of decency. Always.
He was out, free. That world of violence and painful loss and ever more violence was gone, over.
It was an instant. A flash within a moment. No warning.
React. Act. Continue action through resolution.
In truth, it was the squint of an eye. A spark. Recognition. The man saw him, saw through the years.
No time. No choice. He’d pounced, left behind years of civility. The man was barely past recognition before his life was ended, extinguished. Left behind.
But a trip, a momentary stumble to what was is not a fall. A street light lit the grey of his head, shoulders, back and then nothing. It was just a moment.
iPhone Notes Story
ORD – TUL 04.13.16