Slowly, very slowly, he sat up, an as he did so he felt more alive, and more aware of his own living body than ever before. His breath came slow and deep, and his mouth and throat were completely dry, but so were his eyes.
He stood up. His heart was leaping against his ribs like a frantic bird. Perhaps it knew it had little time left, perhaps it was determined to fulfill a lifetime’s beats before the end. Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious: to think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second.
It’s rather scary actually.. Not something to be looking for to.Looking at the night sky, thinking that, this may be the last time you’re seeing stars. Feeling the crisp night air in your lungs. Smoking one more cigarette, enjoying the scenery. Feeling that you can’t go on, yet you must. I think I lost something that night. Something valuable.