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Xavier knew he wouldn't make it to the bottom of the stairs and on to the beach by himself, but he did not let that stop him. Each breath emerged harsh in the seaside air, his spindly legs and veined feet ached, his arm gave way as he held on to the banister.
With the other arm he waved away the man who had taken bullets for him on more than one occasion. This one he had to do alone.
He saw them in the distance, his portly mother with his little son, out in the sand, trying to give the boy the sort of memories he should have at this age. Not an absent mother, and a father whose bones stood out further each day, surrounded by grim, gun-toting strangers. He had to reach them. The man whose word was law in all of Sicily, for policeman and thugs alike, could surely take a walk on the beach.
He stumbled and fell in a heap, sweat trickling into his eyes. Immediately his man Friday was by his side, his hands awkward, gentle. Xavier let himself be picked up, cursing the blood that now ran in his veins, a blood turned against its own master, sweeping away and sucking at his life from the inside. But he would not let that stop him.

If you liked this story you might like some of the stories I wrote for my A to Z last year.
Blogging from A to Z Challenge Reflections Posts of 2012 will start on Monday May 7th. The Linky list will go up on that day so you can enter the link for that post on the list.

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ReplyDeleteI feel for the poor man. Good job describing his anguish.
ReplyDeleteI can't believe we are almost to the end. I have really enjoyed your stories. Thanks.
Von L
The Growing Writer
As always, an amazing job! Can you believe it...almost done. I'm so glad to have found your blog.
ReplyDeletePoor man... I can sense his determination to be this person who makes his mother and his son proud!
ReplyDelete"He would walk to his son, and be the father, walk to his mother and be her son." This sentence shows that the best ending can be deceptively plain and simple. No flowery prose or ten dollars words, but a perfectly arranged sentence that captures the heart and the essential human experiences that tie us all together - family, and death. :-)
ReplyDeleteI'm starting to feel like a broken record, but that's another powerful story. I love how much sense of back story you were able to fit into such a small piece.
ReplyDeleteWow, very powerful. Rivetting! Keep in touch and all best wishes for your final "Z". It has been a great experience and now ready for a break after Monday---at least for a little while.
ReplyDeleteHappy writing and reading, love MoonWynd
http://moonwyndstudio.wordpress.com/
What a beautiful post! Am close to tears.
ReplyDeleteI love your stories. Waiting for the next.
http://skaypisms.blogspot.com/
I like this excerpt. Thanks for visiting my blog. Only one more day to go. Will life ever be the same?
ReplyDeletehttp://francene-wordstitcher.blogspot.com/
What a powerful story for your "X" post.
ReplyDeleteThank you for stopping by my Myotonic Dystrophy blog and commenting on my recent post. I do appreciate the feedback on this new blog.
I've just now added a 'follow me' button and would like it if you could come back and follow. I'm a new follower of yours.
Myotonic Dystrophy-Our Family’s Journey
nice. can stand alone.
ReplyDeleteyou are one beautiful writer. It's an honour to meet you.
ReplyDeletejean
I loved the title! The story reminded me of The Road to Perdition!!!
ReplyDeleteThank you, everyone, for being so kind in your comments.
ReplyDeleteMost of the stories are written at a sitting, in half an hour or less, and now that I'm almost at the end, I feel guilty about that.
But I've been traveling, and the stories came as and when and how they came, and I guess that is how they'll remain on this blog.
I like the determination that comes through here and the hint of tragedy that comes with knowing Xavier is terribly ill.
ReplyDeleteThanks for using my pic. Wow he will die trying, amazing. Will you be publishing these stories too?
ReplyDelete