The Vulture and I
I watched the vulture looking at me hungrily as I lay on the ground bleeding and injured. Holding my hand flat against my right side I pressed hard, trying, but not succeeding, in stopping the flow of sticky, red fluid. It was seeping unhindered through my shirt.
Looking back to the vulture, I attempted to shout, but no sound came out of my weary body. Head spinning, tongue glued to the roof of my mouth, jaws clenched with excruciating pain, I felt the inexorable encroaching darkness, and the inevitable extinction of my life’s spark.
A surge of sharp pain brought me back momentarily from the brink, and reaching into my left pocket I took out my revolver, aimed squarely between the vulture’s eyes and squeezed the trigger. I was already in the tunnel as the bullet hit, contemplating the irresistible, bright white light.
Another inspiring prompt from Barbara this week for the Mondays Finish the Story challenge. The first sentence is imposed and the story should be completed in less than 150 words.
Please spend some time looking at the other entries!