“Let me see your hands” he snarls in an unfamiliar tone that penetrates deep inside my heart.

Before me stands a shadow of a man I had grown so accostomed to. His stiff posture as he holds the shotgun and the rage dripping from his brow was a stark contrast.

I reveal my hands palms facing forward. “Now remove the mask” he spits out as he waves the barrel as some sort of instruction.

“Please” ...

Like the sun and the moon

When one goes away

The others creeps out

To follow you

Branches reaching out

To keep you in their grasp

Because regardless of the two

you will be slowly consumed...

Life goes on.

Though the people gone

the words i wrote remain.

Now i suppose I will write about other things...

Our eyes lock in an instance of knowing. As if the world itself had frozen dread slowly washes over me. A slight twicth of the mans foreman cues me to make my escape. Grabbing the handle bars I flip myself around and pedal....