The cold barrel of his .44 was pushing into the skin of my forehead. He was giving what in likelihood was an impassioned monologue on the satisfaction of catching me. No word reached my racing mind. I couldn’t help but to think of my little girl, swiping for her mobile my last time seeing her. The arduous snap back to reality was the metallic click of him cocking his hammer. Both of us were silent now. These last moments, which were likely fractions of a second, felt like an eternity. The moment I felt his finger start to squeeze, I couldn’t help but just close my eyes. The expectation of that last bang only managed to steep my following amazement.

My eyes opened, I was no where near that devil. I had no reason to believe but every bit of other knowledge to know I was and was going to be okay. I could no longer even see the city where I was eyeing death. I was floating better than any aviation engineer could comprehend. In a place seemingly above all creation. Overwhelming ease about where I was, a great weight was lifted. The kind of weight that only the burden of mortality and life can bring. I knew where I was but felt no need to acknowledge nor declare. I was in that place, high above the city.