Red Light
by Raiden Fortun
Red light.
Only light on the dark sea.
I see the eclipse of red but I don’t stop.
I hear a child scream.
The car skids, I turn around.
Afraid, I crawl out the door.
There she is, limp in the street.
I look left. I look right. Empty.
Red light.
The headlights drench me in their crimson glow.
Her redness turns the white dress pink,
Same color of my bloodstained innocence.
The sea is so dark, an abyss of silence.
My phone is resting on the seat.
Empty. Empty. Empty.
A faint breath escapes her lungs.
The light turns green.