A Life On Fire by Chris Bowsman

cigarette. Before this thought has come and gone, she has switched hands, and is now carving up her right wrist. The razor drops from her hand, splashing silently. She lies back, sliding down in the tub until her feet touch the edge under the faucet. All her strength is gone, and her arms drop into the water, now entirely red. Her vision is fading, and she tries to remember the evening with . . . with . . . but now everything, even his name, is slipping. Every touch, every kiss, every moment with him. All gone. In the seconds before death, she wishes she could take it back, had no idea she’d lose it all like this. But of course, she can’t, and everything slips away.
        There is no white light. She cannot look down, see her body. No choir of angels, no harps, no St. Peter standing before the Pearly Gates. Instead, there is Gerald. He smiles at her, waiting, as patient and perfect as always.

 
     
    Chris lives in Springfield, Ohio, with his wife and three sons. He spends a lot of time reading and writing.

 
     
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