The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 4 | Page 57

51

I did not know

Eddie Justice,

but I know his ghost. I

know his last words,

caught in a tangled web

of cyberspace.

"He's coming," he said.

"I'm gonna die," he said.

And he did.

Part Two - Inertia

It started

out cold.

A shard of ice

in my chest,

a tiny piece of

winter that will not

thaw,

that soaked into my veins and spread,

like a disease,

to every

limb.

A spot of death, that settled

in my belly,

and reminded me the

price of freedom.

And I am strong.

I am made of stone, with

iron spine,

but I am

weak

in the face of this horror.

I am weak,

crushed to rubble from the weight,

for even stone will

crack

when faced with endless winter.

(Cont.)

Part Three - Reprise

It is too soon

to invoke their names - too soon, and far, far

too late.