xoja

3 It was four hours until they found us, down the side of some hill under the metal, under the fire. I was breathing, barely. I couldn't see you for smoke, a million trillion miles from me, adjacent, at once. 2 The deer died with its eyes open. Wide open like the moon. Like it knew. Because it did. I'd say the last thing to go through its head was fear, but you and I both knew it was us. 1 I begged you to slow down. I pleaded. 'The road ahead is winding. Is sodden. Is rarely travelled.' I meant it, literally. You smiled, whispered into my ear, 'You're perfect.' And that was when we hit it.