Sunday, April 26, 2009

Hightower

One
White robe
Blue sash
Red letters

Two
His eyes are calm
Breathing even
Mind set

Three
Her brow is feverish
Heart pounding
Mouth open

Four
It begins
But it won’t last long
So you shouldn’t blink

Five
A hand
On white sleeves
Now grip it

Six
Hold your redemption
It’s almost yours now
Claim it completely

Seven
Panic spreads all over
Adrenaline rush
A struggle

Eight
Her eyes don’t move
Hands are clasped
Her head is spinning

Nine

He feels the fear
But never stops
His hold just tightens

Ten
Gather strength
One swift lift
One quick throw

Eleven

Time is above all
It takes him eleven seconds
To make her fall

One, Two, Three,
Four, Five, Six,
Seven, Eight, Nine,
Ten
Eleven

A sickening thud
A groan of pain
A hand is raised
A lip curls into a smile.
It’s over.

He glances at her direction.

She falls.
 

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