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The Fourth Man

Blood stained dagger
Image: Pinclipart

The short blade glistened in the sun, it made his eyes water
He couldn’t figure out why he hesitated, what made him contemplate WHY!!!
He doubted whether he had the right to; he wondered if it was right
The cause seemed lost to him
He thought of home for a second, the farm where he grew up, it made him feel at peace, such irony; contemplating peace with a dagger in hand
The man kneeling before him had hair like that of Ahmid, his younger brother; whom he would give his life for in a heartbeat.
He knew now he couldn’t go through with it, a task he had performed with precision many times before, with such swiftness, with such detachment but also with such fear.
A morning of ironies it seemed. He found empathy at the most ill opportune of times, courage made his eyes water, bravery made his hands tremble and love made his heart bleed
The fourth man in a line of ten, twenty men, ten with seconds to live.  Perhaps now, eleven.
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