Shelter

I didn’t make it to the border. I knew I was bleeding out. Shadows sheltered me as I found an empty building, no more than a shack. Collapsing in a dark corner, I pulled the belt out of my pants and made a makeshift tourniquet. My field dressing was next. I pressed it onto my thigh and tied it tight.

If the bleeding would stop, I could rest; make another attempt to get out of this Hellhole. The crimson stream slowed to a sluggish ooze. Closing my eyes, I pictured my love and I let her breathe life into me.