No one responded to his cries. The only sound was in his head, as some song lyrics repeated themselves over and over again in his mind.

I cried for you, lied for you,
I even said I'd die for you,
And now you're gone, I can't go on,
But I'm dead, yesterday.

The words and tune seemed familiar to him, but also discomforting as the meaning became clear to him. He lay there on the hotel floor, his head only inches away from that stain.

Was he dead? Was that what had happened? But how?





©Alex Helm, 2005