"You are going to die if you do it, Dustin!"
He couldn't escape from the echoes of what the old man advised.
He remembered the lady with hazel eyes in Karsaw saying something in Portuguese.
That's what he did.
The pain is not there anymore. He had seen their eyes.
It didn't matter to him now.
He died a long time ago.
What he felt was misty hope and solid trust in the Lord.
Lugubrious. That was all he felt.
For a fleeting moment. Just for a moment.
Then, he felt safe.
He felt that he did his best.
Penultimately, he walked away.
Dustin returned to dust a few weeks later.
One blue moonlight, he was, brutally, murdered.
photo credit: Giuseppe Milo (www.pixael.com) After the sunrise - Dublin, Ireland - Color street photography via photopin (license)
License: (license)
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