Grace

The bullet shells are raining from the sky. I am in his arms, three gunshot wounds to my hip and he has three to his chest.

I laugh, like a fool. I laugh cupping his face with my bloodied hands as our blood bounces off the snow, mingling and spreading vibrantly in the chaos in our small, loving cabin porch of four years.

"Grace," he whispers in my ear "I will find you in our world, so...." I can hear the sniffle as I intertwine my fingers in his "Wait for me, will you?" I laugh again, louder catching the attention of the crazy mafioso man.

"Yes, I will...... wait" my vision tunnels, the screams echo, his body falls to the ground as mine beside him. I close my eyes.

I wake up in my desk in tears. I stand up, watching the sun rise from my high rise office window, adjusting my tie as I open my laptop and begin to type: Subject Title - Vaibhav's Resignation.

Some stories are meant to be buried deep into your chest and coil around your heart like a snake as it provides insight to what you truly want to and I, wanted to wait. Wait in India for him to find me. He will find me.

I keep that hope in my chest as I type my resignation out and resolve my heart of everything that had chained me to the job I hated.