Scarlet pierces through the knit wool sweater.
A harsh contrast against the untouched snow.
The gun comes down, her eyes are cold, yet her
ragged breath betrays fears she will not show.

Blinking, the aether coming into view.
One foot in the grave, I think of my wife.
A blood bubble bursts as if on a cue,
and all I think, "what a wonderful life."