A Moment

My hands continued to shake as I hurried us out the door. He kept telling me not to worry. A crimson heat burning my face, An electric fear, surging, my heart pounding. My hands continued to shake. Like a vulture surrounding its pray the car circled us. I tried to hurry, but he told me not to worry. We ran. The wind burned. My eyes watered. The ground pounded my feet. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He told me not to worry, but I could see in that moment, in his eyes- a fear, unmasked, revealed. He was worried. The glint of a gun. A shot. A cry. I saw him fall. I saw him die. He couldn’t tell me not to worry. A menacing moment. An audible silence. A scarlet surge, staining his shirt. My hands, they wouldn’t- they couldn’t, stop shaking.