22 Hours at Gunpoint – A Day Later



22 Hours at Gunpoint (http://iwendy.ca/1980/07/12/22-hours-at-gunpoint-1980/) – A Day Later

Down 20+ Flights.
Racing With me.
Racing Behind me.
Racing Around me,
And In me.

Heart Pounding.
For Breath.

On the Kitchen Table –
“He is not with us.
We don’t know where he is.
Do NOT be alone with him.”

And I’m racing,
Down 20+ flights.
Conscious of one thing only,
The terror following,
The terror surrounding,
The terror consuming,
Every step,
Of every flight.

Reach the bottom.
So afraid
Of that open lobby.

He might be there.
With his gun,
Waiting to take me out.
Waiting to see me fall
Into that forever land
Of never land.

No choice
But to go.
Race through
That terrible space.
A lobby
That is not a lobby,
But a place
Where he
Can lie in wait.

Where do I get
The strength?
I am not a runner.
I am not even very fit.
Yet, I race on.
Heart pounding,
Straining for breath.

Through the lobby,
Out the door,
Gain access to my car,
Key in ignition,
Tires squealing,
Making good my escape,
To live another day,
And then perhaps another,
As I wait,
For the moment,
That moment
When he will keep his promise
To end my life.

I’ve felt it so many times
In my mind.
Felt it,
Seen it,
Heard it.
The shot,
The impact,
The fall,
The blackness.

Then nothing.

But not today.
Tomorrow maybe.
The day after.
Next week.
Next month.

The promise has been made.
And I wait for him to keep it.









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