in medias res

middle

3 people were left standing that day.

It moved in slow motion, like shock, as each one of them were left looking at each other in awe — jaws hanging, eyebrows raised, sweat dribbling in beads mixed with urine, down legs, while the close to non-existent, yet slightly cooling, breeze whistled softly, just audible enough to be heard in the otherwise complete silence.

A tear slid down Ellen’s smeared mascara, painting her cheeks a smudged gray and brown, like a pottery maker, a clown, or maybe a desperate traveler in a dust bowl.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s