Down By The River

 

I should have been more concerned with her blood staining the leather seats yet I could not stop fixating on the smell. That's one thing people neglect to tell you about death, the smell. It's not that rotting smell you would expect either, that comes latter during the stages of decomposing, it's more like a scent. The grim reaper's cologne left lingering long after he has claimed what was his.

I lit my first post-homicide cigarette and made my best effort to make eye contact with her. I still hadn't built up the courage to do so and with nowhere else to look, I fell into a trance staring into the river. The nostalgia tinted memories came flooding back to me in an instant. Memories of being here with her, a time of youth and joy, naked skin glistening in the chilling waters and the feeling of being nervous and excited in unity.

I must have drifted off to sleep because the moment I opened my eyes, I was looking directly at her. She looked oddly content in her eternal slumber, her eyes still open and her mouth pursed in a half gape, half smile. For a split second the image of the two could of resembled a young couples picnic rather than a murder scene. The gunpowder smell that had tainted the air had long since merged with the natural smell of the lonely river. I wanted to stay in this moment for as long as possible. Of course the thought of joining her had occurred to me, but I am cowardly and could load the barrel yet never pull the trigger.

For now, I decided to have another cigarette and bask in this short period of time that had been preserved for me. I have a lifetime to remember, to reminisce or to regret. I could feel her cold stare now for the first time, judging me, begging me, haunting me. I shuddered.

I shifted around uncomfortably, knowing that sooner or later I'd have to move the dreaded body, to touch death directly and hold the tangible residue it left behind. I began to make the effort to open the door and get out the car when I noticed the indistinguishable blue lights coming down the mountain towards our peaceful haven. Prematurely defeated perhaps but my relatively carefree thoughts were relived at the knowledge that I wouldn't have to touch her.

So I sat, had my third consecutive cigarette and waited. Like when you awaken ten minutes before your alarm and doze back, I treasured every second, wishing never to be wakened again. The illuminating blue lights were beginning to wash through the interior of the car and inevitably any moment, the serene moment would be shattered.

So I sat with my baby, down by the river.

KRS