Sunday, 14 November 2010
The hatch is open, the cold air blows into the house.
She sits on the edge, feet dangling free.
"What are you up to?" he asks,
confusion in his voice, a wry smile on his face.
"This!" she shouts back.
And with just a moment's thought, she jumps, as if into his arms.
He smiles, and puts out his arms to catch her.
A moment too late, he sees the noose around her neck.
We try. We really try. Fighting against all the odds.
A blur of uniforms, green and orange.
A whirr of blades and flashing lights.
We hear his pleas, his screams, his sobs.
And suddenly, as if in answer to his prayers,
she breathes. Regular as clockwork.
And so do we.