Saturday, May 22, 2004

Then someone fell down, landing with a thud in the wet earth.
Spinning around, I saw Allan, laying there, facedown. Blood flowed
with rain, washing back to mother earth. The light faded from his eyes
as he stared into mine. There was no pain, just acceptance. I flashed
my careful eyes over the damp walls of the jungle that surrounded us.
It was just like the other times, I couldn't see another soul out
there, but I felt him there. His soul weighed against mine as I closed
my eyes.
We stopped to bury Allan, the remainder of the group sombre and
watchful. Jaded now to the death, we felt nothing. He had no family,
none of us did. We knew the risks of the job. It's easier not to care
when you have nothing to live for. Moving on, we kept our eyes on the
path, rarely venturing a glance into the deep terrors of the trees.
They never changed. The same trees, it seemed, repeated endlessly,
like a poorly made video game.

(c) Chris N