they talked throught the night <br />as the candle burned down, exchanging <br />the stories of their lives. <br />then finally, they just sat in the stillness, <br />listening to the walls of the old house <br />breathe. <br />he thought about his life, the work, the <br />family, the love... all gone. <br /> <br />she whispered, 'be still, they're coming...' <br />the lights of the cruiser inched up the <br />street. stopping, they shone a light into <br />the old house, like fingers probing. <br />they sat motionless, afraid to move.. <br />finally, they moved on. <br />'they'll be back, someone's called...' she <br />began to cry. <br /> <br />he sat up and dug in his pocket. pulling <br />out a wadded up old black and white photo, <br />he straightened it out, taking out a fifty <br />dollar bill. <br />'i want you to have it... when they go to chasing <br />me, take the baby, and run...' <br />before she could say anything, he was up and <br />out the door. <br /> <br />he crouched in the bushes at the end of the drive. <br />when he saw the cruiser coming, he stood up and <br />let out a whoop. he took off running as fast as he <br />could go, trying to put distance between them and <br />the old house <br />when they finally cornered him, one street over, he <br />put up a struggle. as they beat him to the ground <br />with their batons, he imagined he could see the lights <br />of a car going down the street. it was the last thing <br />he ever remembered!<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/swollen-final-chapter/
