"So this is what it is to die. I had always imagined it would be so quick that lucid thoughts would be impossible. Yet…here I am, lying on my side in the dirt, back-shot after been bushwhacked in an alley I had no business walking down in this miserable town. I knew better. My gut told me not to. My finely honed, almost supernatural survival instincts were ringing the danger bell so loudly I could barely concentrate. But I am a determined, stubborn man who knew the murdering thief had gone this way after killing my good friend last week. I never even heard his cohort rise from behind those barrels, aim, and shoot. I was too fixated on the shadowy figure ahead of me. A damn greenhorn mistake!"

The tall, hemorrhaging man groaned as another sharp spasm of unbelievable pain coursed through him, temporarily blurring his vision. He was unable to move or reposition his body that had always instantly and gracefully obeyed him. Turning his head slightly, he stared up at the velvety black dome of stars crowned with a large, golden, full moon. His sharp eyes studied the features of the face formed by the orb's crater shadows, and a slight smile creased his face.

"You're looking down on me, aren't you? I don't feel so alone now." He felt a sharp catch in his heart, a pain unrelated to his mortal wound. "Oh, how I wish I could say goodbye to my friends, and especially, to her. She'll never know what happened to me. We didn't even have a proper farewell the last time I saw her. I could barely look at those tears at the rimes of those beautiful sky-blue eyes that her pride somehow kept from falling. We parted on a sad note, each deeply disappointed in the other. All I want now is to hold her close, kiss her just one more time, and apologize. I was such a fool!"

As the dirt behind his back turned dark with the spreading pool of his blood, the man blacked out for a few moments, then re-opened his eyes with a start.

"I'm still here! How long does this dying take? Most of the deaths I have seen have been instantaneous, but then there were a few who hung on. And I remember standing over or kneeling by dying men, and wondering what they were seeing. The dark eyes seemed to grow even darker, and almost black, as if seeing into a void. Those with light eyes, like mine, sometimes glowed in fright, or hatred, or something else. I wonder what my eyes look like now? Do they show the yearning to see that beautiful face one more time? That roses and cream skin, those cheekbones setting off her long-lashed, bluest-of-blue eyes so full of emotion? I wish I could try to explain myself to her, and to make her understand what I did and why!" As the painful regret in his heart overwhelmed the pain from the burning path of the bullet, tears filled his eyes. "All the wasted time! The waste of it all!"

A warm breeze eddied through the dark, trash-filled alley, bringing an unexpected scent of roses to his nose. The struggle of his dying body to maintain a hold on life heightened his senses to a surge of intensity he had never experienced before. He felt he could see, hear, and smell everything in the world at once. Like a slow exhalation after taking in an impossibly deep breath, he felt his consciousness fade, a little at a time. First his ability to turn his head left him, followed by the sensation of his body lying so heavily on the ground. As his blue eyes slowly closed forever, he could still hear a distant owl on the wind. He knew that he did believe in the afterlife, and prayed for forgiveness, and the chance of seeing her again sometime.

"Kitty. Kitty. My darling daughter. I always did love you…in my own way."

End.