Funny how life quickly escapes through fingers. Like sand. You don't even look at it, and it falls down into the endless sandbox of lost lives.

You lie on the ground. Next to him. He holds your hand and breathes in an even, shallow rhythm.

"We're both in this..." He whispers

It's true. Both of you are now looking in the same direction. You both have a thousand thoughts in your head. Both of you are in the same condition

Both of you are lying between fire, bullets and blood

Waiting for death