The Waiting Game

Waiting in my box of life, we listen to the voices filled with panic and terror. We hold back, waiting for asylum, dread filling our essence. For every second delayed, the farther away he moves. We anticipate every need. I check my tools. Is it all there? I look down at my hand and I wonder, will they do? Will they stand the test? Can I hold back the tide of death as it swirls around him? Quickly, we move in, I see his lifeless form laying on the battlefield. I approach hesitantly, dodging dirt and debris, running through a hailstorm of lead. Finally reaching my prize, I pray for a breath. I slowly pry loose the enter twined fingers of Jordan from around his throat. I shield his broken body with my own as I work. slowly, I defeat the demon. Eyes open, groggy, mumbled words through a haze of morphine. "I knew you'd come,. Doc."