The Poisonous Cure

Linking this with the Half Marathon at The Blog Chatter, Day 3 and Daily Post.


The Poisonous Cure

Half Marathon, Day 3

Every time he closed his eyes, the same scene returned. He was standing over the body of his only son.

“Why won’t you leave me in peace?” he muttered, his body shaking as he opened them again.

He took the bottle and drank again, drank to try and forget that scene, to forget what happened, and to find peace. Yet the moment he closed his eyes, once more it returned. The bottle was empty.

He stumbled to the car, fumbled his keys twice as he tried to put them in the ignition, finally managing it on the third attempt. As he turned onto the highway, the world began to blur. The feet missed the brakes, but not the accelerator as he rushed toward his salvation… the store. He didn’t see the girl crossing the street till the last minute, veered suddenly and crashed into a signpost.

Looking behind, he thought he saw his son sitting there, his eyes fearful.

“If only I remembered,” he thought, seeing the sign as he slowly got out of the car.

Image Source via Wikimedia Commons

“No more,” he promised himself, as the girl and others came rushing to check on him.


Also inspired by this quote:
“All this time, I drank you like the cure, when maybe you were the poison.” – Clementine von Radics


(© Vinay Leo R. @ I Rhyme Without Reason, 18th July 2016)

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Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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