Just right (Part 31)
Ivan: Without Burden
I sit and stare into nothing. I feel the great beast idling, its energy surrounding me, waiting. A sheet of rain drums overhead, the only sound. I breathe, inhaling the sulfur and smoke that lingers, clinging to me like death. Somewhere behind me, a memory burns, fiery flames sizzling in the night as the sky releases its bounty to strike down what the wolf has done.
The Giant is dead. I do not have to see him die to know it. The Tatianna’s, too. The wolf at the door, and me without my Kalash. How I would have buried him, my fingers icy against the glowing metal of the barrel, slow to feel the burn. The clip empty, tiny silver graves littering the floor around Father’s lifeless body. The wolf lies still, its tongue lolling from between its bared teeth.
How I would have buried him were I a young man.
Not even the Giant could finish him. My ogre, my brute, my Baba Yaga.
My knuckles are white against the leather of the wheel, and I sit amidst the ruin of my existence, alone with the stench of death and the fading…
