Whispers in the wind

[Billy The Kid]

Walking through the halls of the hospital with his head held high, his jet black hair neatly combed back, his polo shirt neatly tucked into his jeans, and his well taken care of black leather shoes shining under the fluorescents. To many it may look like the man walking through the halls is a well dressed businessman who is coming to see a friend during his lunch hour or possibly just looking to make a deal with the chairman of the hospital’s board of directors. In actuality several weeks ago the man walking tall was laying on the side of road with glass puncturing any part of his torso that was not covered in road rash, His strikingly black hair was almost a dark crimson when the ambulance came to his aide as the blood slowly dripped through it. Still able to faintly taste the sanguine, the man knew how close he came to meeting his maker but evaded death’s icy grip with luck that would make the Irish jealous.

With each step across the floor the sound of the hard leather soles can be heard with a light clap, looking to exit the recovery wing as soon as possible and enter the lobby Christian’s steps are with as much haste as any man can muster without entering a jog. Passing by the chapel and then the little shop, stepping out into the lobby, the sliding glass doors letting in the noon sun. Walking over to the desk named “check out”where he would have to put his signature on the last few papers. Placing the blue pen down, rubbing his pinky where a small amount of the ink smeared, the well groomed businessman walks out into the pickup and drop off loop. Sitting down on the bench he looks towards the street waiting for his ride to arrive.