A WASTED LIFE
© C E Ayr
By Neel Anil Panicker
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
The aphorism fitted Rocky to a T.
He was my childhood buddy, the strapping six foot tall lad with matching swagger; the guy whose unbridled machismo was only matched with a sniggering nonchalance that had well past gone the stage of arrogance.
He loved getting into non-existent fights, was ever scouring the ten mile radius around where we lived for his daily dose of adrenaline rush.
One such outing proved his undoing.
It was a Sunday, the streets were chic-o-bloc with weekend bargain hunters, the markets abuzz with the cacophonous shouts and shrieks of excited buyers and sellers.
We were skirting past the serpentine lane, heading for our Maths coaching class when someone brusquely swept past us, his wobbly legs tripping Rocky over.
I turned around and saw the man for what he was: a middle aged shaggy haired, smelly vagabond with a groggy eyed look.
A junkie, I hissed and moved ahead.
No Rocky. Moments later he had turned around and raised his fist.
I was a tad late. The man pulled out a knife and thrust it straight into Rocky’s chest.
I watched in horror as life ebbed away. Within moments he was dead, my friend, his blood reddening the ground below as his attacker slipped past the shell- shocked crowd of onlookers.
Rocky, he died as he lived__by the sword.
©neelanilpanicker2018 #sundayphotofictioneer #fiction #shortstory #memoir #231words