[Rapture] For Bucky
Aug. 2nd, 2011 04:01 amI realize- realized some time ago, long before the sun dropped below the horizon and the cooler night air set in- that I should not just be sitting here. What lacerations and bruises I'm sporting are minor; superficial. My skin is still warm from sitting in the last of the sun, though I'm stripped to the waist so it's leaving me, now. Even the heat soaked up by the sand all day is leaving, dissipating into the evening air and leaving the grains cool to the touch.
Not as cold as the body wrapped in the remains of my shirt and jacket. Between the two pieces of clothing, she's covered head to toe. I know I should move her, should bring her to the forensic team, not that I want to. Maybe straight to the cemetery. There's something I should be doing, but all I can do is watch the water for more bodies. I sit with my knees bent and my arms draped over them, feeling wasted but remaining vigilant, and bear witness as the ocean laps away at the stretch of sand I washed up on, continuing to shift and replace the pieces of shore that were disturbed as I tried uselessly to breathe life back into the lungs of a little dead girl.
Not as cold as the body wrapped in the remains of my shirt and jacket. Between the two pieces of clothing, she's covered head to toe. I know I should move her, should bring her to the forensic team, not that I want to. Maybe straight to the cemetery. There's something I should be doing, but all I can do is watch the water for more bodies. I sit with my knees bent and my arms draped over them, feeling wasted but remaining vigilant, and bear witness as the ocean laps away at the stretch of sand I washed up on, continuing to shift and replace the pieces of shore that were disturbed as I tried uselessly to breathe life back into the lungs of a little dead girl.