Second Chance Rose

by John Mc Caffrey

smiling his familiar crooked smile. She then looked to his outstretched hand and almost against her will, lifted her own. What’s to lose? Phantom-boy either was real, or he wasn’t, and if he wasn’t, then there was no harm in touching him.

  She reached out, and in her stupor it was as if she reached across a chasm that spanned farther than the short distance he stood from her. Her arm extended across the rooftop to the other side, to the other building then beyond. She kept reaching, stretching, and he, for his part, reached out to her as well. The wind picked up, blowing against her body, pushing her away from Andy and towards the edge. She strained with the effort of maintaining her balance and still her arm went on. She reached across the block, the very city itself, until she reached beyond that. The wind, screamed in protest ripping her hair forward, blinding her as she tried to reach Andy. She felt tired with the effort and her eyes closed, her arm hurt and her body cried for rest. Her head rolled to one side as the wind buffeted her again and again, and as she felt herself slipping into oblivion, his hand finally found hers, closing over it. Too late though, the wind laughed as it pushed her over the edge and she felt herself falling. Her body began a slow roll forward.

  Party-time, I’m coming Richy. Party-time forever now. I should have done this the day you died. This life is not for me, never was, too many memories, too much hurt. Life is just too much bullshit Richy. I’m coming.