Into the Fire

The Braveheart soundtrack played, a quiet backdrop for their lunch. Micah liked that she was quiet much of the time. If there was nothing to say, she didn’t. Somehow it made him more comfortable. It had been so long since he’d spent this much time in anyone’s presence, isolated as he had become. More a viewer of his life than a participant, standing behind the two-way mirror watching himself live in the glaring light of loss. The excuses he offered himself were breaking down under this new interrogation. He found himself guilty of ignoring people, places, and things. Letting them just float by in the lifeboat without offering an exchange of courage which he felt he’d somehow lost, and he’d hidden in the foothills of the mountain like an animal from hunters. Smart and savvy, missing their scope-focused rifle shots or heart-rending, stabbing arrows. Removed and hidden away, hearing them all around him but able to be concealed.
“Micah Jones, are you ignoring me?” he heard her ask.
He locked his gaze on her, a smile trying not to break forth from her lips.
“Yeah,” he grinned. “But not intentionally. What?”
“I’m going to go use the restroom. Do you want me to take your garbage?”
He looked down. He’d finished his meal tucked away in thought. “I’ll go with ya. If we don’t have to, we won’t stop ‘til we get home.”

Taken from Nightcrawler (WIP tentative title). (2007; written by Nicole Petrino-Salter)