On the Edge of Life

I.

His pants were too tight, his jacket was heavy and his face was streaming with blood but he did not care.

All he knew was his shoes pounding against the pavement rhythmically, arms whipping in every direction, hands gripping car doors and pulling them open, diving in and finally breathing.

It took him a minute to remember what he was doing there or where 'there' was for that matter. Then suddenly like a rush of blood to the head he remembered and craved the feeling of forget.

A sound of tires screaming against the road and he was flying, flying past buildings and roads and more buildings away from the events that had just unfolded which he still wished he forgot.

What happened back there? And he was instantly reminded of the blood that had not stopped and a sharp pain in his shoulder.

I've been shot he said. And laughed. He laughed the most he had ever laughed in his life, flying down roads past buildings and bleeding from his broken heart.