He knew she was gone; like bricks her head weighed heavily on his arm.
He moved strands of her brown hair away from her face;
With her eyes open, she stared aimlessly at the setting sky.
Her petite body laid partly upon the pavement with her feet pointed in different directions.
He looked at her skin– the change of color.
The once Georgian peach seem to reflect the color of a thunder storming sky.
Oh, how clear it is to witness the departure of a soul.
A tsunami of feelings–debris of different emotions.
He wondered. How many would miss her?
Would he be able to count the number on her hand?
He stood there, holding her, crouched with her in his arms.
He expected to be frozen in time as he marveled at her fading beauty,
but he only felt that time was rather against him as he heard footsteps
echoing in the distance.
He placed her gently on the cement floor, the color seemingly to match her skin.
Rising to his feet, he wiped the blood stained blade against his dark woolen pants.
He always felt grief upon leaving,
but he knew;
soon he would find a replacement.