Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Prompt 5.1: Large or small, write about how you in some way made a difference./Writers Muses

This was it, after seven years of wishing his life had ended with his family, he would finally be joining them. It was hard to think clearly, the malaria, the days they had gone without food or water, without sleep, if only Chance could be spared the sight of witnessing yet one more death. But, she was alive, her mother was alive, and with any luck they would be allowed to leave once he was dead. 

He couldn't deny it, the truth was, he was ready to die, he had known it when Carter asked him what he should tell Weaver about his going back to County.  He had come to the Congo to escape the failure his life in Chicago had become, at least here he could feel like his life had mattered.  He had told Carter that the vaccines alone were saving hundreds of lives, but it was more then that, it was being needed in ways he didn't feel in Chicago.

As difficult as it was he once more forced himself to his knees, and for a brief moment he was sure he heard the voice of his mother in his ear, coaxing him to remember the prayers of his youth.

"Oce nas, koji jesi na nebesima, sveti se ime tvoje...dodi kraljevstovo tvoje, budi volja tvoja...Kako na nebu tako i na zemlji. Kruh nas svagdanji daj nam danas...I otpusti nam duge nase kado i mi otpustamo deznicima nasim...I ne uvedi nas u napast nego izbavi nas od zia."

He wasn't afraid to die.



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