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A Black Rush of Nothingness


The quiet of the boarding room house over on Grant Street was suddenly broken by the sound of gun fire. It seemed to becoming through one of the walls, which Mitch Barr could see as he flicked on the light. When he stared in that direction, the light seem to be fading a bit. There was a smoky haze forming around and he couldn't understand why that was. His body felt warm and he forced his eyes to see through the haze. There he saw shadows created by the smoke and then dissipate.

“Is everything okay?” he shouted.

There was no answer and no movement.

He walked closer to the wall and he labored while doing so. The haze parted as he pressed his left air against the wall.

Suddenly there was another shot. He gasped, trying to focus more intently. The heat shot through him and a wave of coldness held him for a moment. He shook it off and the heat returned immediately.

There was a voice that whispered through the wall telling Mitch Barr that a greater reality would soon make everything clear.

For a moment he thought about his life. He thought about all his children and his wife who he had lost to cancer several years ago. He thought about the toll that took on him. He thought about his brothers and sisters who were no longer living. He thought about all the happy thoughts and the memories that he had been trying so hard not to lose but had felt slowly slipping away after he turned 80.

He rubbed the wall with his hands and felt a couple of holes. They were not big, but still noticeable. He didn't remember the holes being there, but nevertheless they were. A loud scream shot through the wall knocking him back a few steps as he felt his heart pounding. He felt the sweat dripping from his face as he wiped it away, but it didn't help.

Suddenly, there was a woman standing in front of him. She was a young woman with long black hair and olive skin. He knew her, but didn't recognize her. He tried to speak but the words failed.

Mitch Barr turned toward the woman and she smiled.

He tried to speak again, but nothing came out.

She walked toward him and he suddenly felt her hands on his face. Without warning, a black rush of nothingness roared down from above, directly between him and the woman, and obliterated all the mental sights and memories of his loved ones. Instinctively, he jumped back.

Mitch Barr paused and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember his own name. He honestly didn't know who he was.

The young woman moved closer again as she tried to steer him toward the chair. He resisted as her soft gentle hands squeezed his face. She stepped back and made a big embrace as if she were hugging him, and with her eyes wide she blew him an over-exaggerated kiss.

The next few moments became a blur as he tried adjusting his visuals. He wiped his eyes and finally saw the young woman again. The woman wanted him to turn and face the chair, but he couldn't get over the loss of memory which was a complete emptiness.

She bowed her head and stood completely still. He titled his head a bit sideways and then he decided to turn to face the chair. He knew sorrow and even though he couldn't remember it, he felt the residuals holding him tightly.

Quiet descended as Mitch Barr took in the horror. He could hear the hush of angel wings caressing the heavens. His eyes were glazing over the mental turmoil that was sitting in his chair. He wasn't sure what to say or do as he just stared intently.

She took his hand and they began to walk toward the wall. As he approached the bullet holes, he slowed, turned slowly and his memory returned. It was as if he was standing outside himself as his other self was on the chair with a bullet hole in his neck, and another one on the side of his head. That man in the chair was shot twice and died instantly.


© 2018 Frank Atanacio

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