an unusually hot day, sirens scored the air, people jostled, pushed

“hey, look i told you, leave me be”

looking away, he grasped the bag tighter

“we can’t lose it this time”

looking down, intent, focused, aching, needing to void the pain

“yeah, right, tell me, or bloody don’t, what do you care”

“more than you imagine, this may be the last chance we have”

again, hunched over, looking down

“it’s no better, god, i think it’s got worse”

looking away, walking away

“told you it would end like this, you never bloody cared and now look at you, in a public place…”

not able to focus, too intent on the now, the need, the ache

“look, i can’t cope, i can’t wait, give me a break”

the handles of the plastic bag cut deep into his palm

“i can’t do this any more”

shrugging his shoulders, the metal screen, inviting

“that’s a bloody relief”

(for wordpress writing 101 – day seven)