WANDERER
Red bleary eyes like open wounds. Snake holds the gun closer to his chest. Blinked hard. Heavy rain pounds the deck; concentric circles burble happily outwards on the surface of the dark ocean. The lids fall over his dark eyes, and he dreams for a moment of the cool calm silence at the bottom of the sea.
All that's left, this is all that's left. He recites the old lie: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. Heart beats against its heavy walls. Cool ebony steel clenched tight, as his ship sways and cries. Final destination looms nearer.
An ecstasy of memories overwhelms him. Young again; the cool kiss of steel as he burrows the long blade into his flesh, urging the red venom from its restless courses. The sadness is never going away. Stops himself. Does it again. It hurts and it strengthens him. Like pulling on the edge of the universe.
Presses the muzzle into the soft flesh beneath his chin. Wraps a long finger around the trigger. Jaw clenches. Eyes sealed. In his mind, he dives again into the bottom of the sea; the quiet envelops him, alone in the perfect surfeit of pale blue. The old lie rushes back to him: It is sweet and right to die for one's country. He pulls the trigger. Lifeless husk fell over the tanker's railing. Esoteric message on the speechless lips.
Red bleary eyes like open wounds. Snake holds the gun closer to his chest. Blinked hard. Heavy rain pounds the deck; concentric circles burble happily outwards on the surface of the dark ocean. The lids fall over his dark eyes, and he dreams for a moment of the cool calm silence at the bottom of the sea.
All that's left, this is all that's left. He recites the old lie: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. Heart beats against its heavy walls. Cool ebony steel clenched tight, as his ship sways and cries. Final destination looms nearer.
An ecstasy of memories overwhelms him. Young again; the cool kiss of steel as he burrows the long blade into his flesh, urging the red venom from its restless courses. The sadness is never going away. Stops himself. Does it again. It hurts and it strengthens him. Like pulling on the edge of the universe.
Presses the muzzle into the soft flesh beneath his chin. Wraps a long finger around the trigger. Jaw clenches. Eyes sealed. In his mind, he dives again into the bottom of the sea; the quiet envelops him, alone in the perfect surfeit of pale blue. The old lie rushes back to him: It is sweet and right to die for one's country. He pulls the trigger. Lifeless husk fell over the tanker's railing. Esoteric message on the speechless lips.
