ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Has ideas but lacks talent and skill to commit completely to writing his perfect novel. [March 2007]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (6) Crazy Crash (Short Stories) Just plain stupid [645 words] Do Memories Really Have A Title? (Non-Fiction) Seriously no point in reading unless over 35 and drunk, I am not kidding but hey you think you know better so go right ahead, don't get smart or witty. You are being stupid by pretending to not read i... [168 words] [Relationships] Don't Mind Her, She's 'armless (Short Stories) Ugly people have feelings too. [1,000 words] [Horror] God Does Indeed Understand Irony (Short Stories) Basically a strange way to die. [691 words] Is Evil Edible? (Short Stories) A very brief introductory work by a person who wishes he could write better than he can. [542 words] [Mystical] Our Father Who Aren't In Heaven (Short Stories) A man searches for his father but will he find him? [3,026 words] [Thriller]
In The End All Becomes Clear Johnny Abrahams
Death, perhaps the greatest leveler of them all. It isn�t racist, sexist nor has it any religious leanings. When it arrives it can�t be ignored or avoided. I am facing death, I have been trapped now for two days under a fallen tree from which my leg has been pinned. Pain racked my body causing blackouts but now has subsided to a dull throbbing ache. I cannot move, I am resigned to death. Since I have made this decision my world has change, knowing my time is limited the fear of approaching death has disappeared. My senses have kicked in forcing my mind to acknowledge the wonders of nature. I notice how green a leaf is, the coolness of a summer shower, the way water bounces once it hits parched earth. The sounds of life, birds chirping in the trees powering life on through my misfortunes. Colours rich and varied, smells so fresh that if they could be contained in a can then deodorant companies would be rich.
My heart aches at missing things normally taken for granted, the clap on the back for a job well done. The feeling of being wanted by someone special and returning that feeling. Expressing joy and love and the feeling of mushiness in the company of someone special. The feeling waking up beside your chosen one, the feeling you get when you make up after a disagreement, just holding hands on a busy street. Feeding each other from your own plate. Comforting people in times of needs. Standing in a line to pay a bill, a train station during peak hour watching people head down making their way through the hustle and bustle of life. Riding a motorcycle down the coast on a fresh summers day, tucking into a juicy rare steak. The first beer after a rather hard day jack hammering. Hitting the bed after an all-nighter. Emptying a rather full bladder, laughing at the embarrassing situations of others and yourself. Watching champions perform at their best. Live rock and roll bands, screaming ridiculously loud to heavy metal lyrics whilst in my car. The feeling of contentment from helping a fellow man in times of need.
Tears roll down my face, I resist the urge to wipe them off taking pleasure from the irritating itchiness unique to this position. I regret not telling people my true feelings, now they will die with me. I can only shake my head at misopportunites thinking that there would be another around the next corner. I can see no corner now. I regret my short temper and my inability to understand problems in others. I see my lack of acceptance of others and their feelings now as a weakness rather than just selfishness. I fight the urge to scream, disappointed in my own performance this time around, knowing better but not practicing. Looks of fear from elderly people in my presence once drove me on, rubbing and massaging my ego as only true power can. Now their eyes burn holes into my consciousness. The way old ladies jump from my way, now my heart jumps at pain and confusion caused by my immaturity. Tears flow freely now, a tear for every person I have treated unfairly. The way a person jumps uncontrollably from a unexpected fright, now causes my body to shake uncontrollably, I wish I can take everyone�s pain with me as my penance. I have no reason for heroics, I know that I am dying, my mind is clear I want no-one to suffer as I am now suffering. I once believed physical pain or torture was the worst a man could suffer, I now realise it to be mental, there is no escaping, no retreating into one�s self. Every where I turn I am faced with pain I have caused to innocent people. I wish I can accept this pain back, turn back the hands of time and remove it. Perhaps Jesus was just a human with similar feelings only his were heard.
Night seems to be falling early tonight, I suspect this will be my last one on this earth. The rustling of the bush to my back has me imaging hungry tigers looking for an easy kill, my body is getting colder now, like a coolroom has opened up around me, struggling to get light into the back of my eyes, my watch beeps four times, signifying 4:00, too early for darkness, blinking back tears I rubbed my eyes until my hands come away with blood present. My body kicks violently the pain in my leg gone, then I settle, a light opens up to my right and a shadow forms in the middle. The shadow gets bigger until it represents a silhouette of a human. A hand reaches forward and grabs me. I stand up unaware of a carcass lying underneath and step towards the light. Reaching the light a bar prevents my entry. Ground suddenly opens under me and I fall.........................
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