Soaring
by William Morgan
The sky’s so clear, so blue,so…beautiful. I am soaring towards it, like a majestic bird.
The sun is bright,but, for some reason I cannot shield my eyes. Is this but a dream?
Then, I turn ,and descend. The wind whips my face as the descent becomes faster.
I see a street below me. Many vehicles with flashing lights. Black smoke, rubble.
A memory flits through. A man strapped with explosives. A flash. Screams. Pain.
I silently scream in terror,for as I get closer, I see my body laying amongst the rubble.
Headless.
