Spared from Death
Spared from Death It was our last meal, I remember it well. It was the meal before everything changed. It was the meal that tasted so sweet yet so bitter. I remember what it was to this day. It was rice, beans, and a packet of salt. We were given water that had run stale from sitting in horse troughs. The air was cold that day, the fog was dense. The clouds were low and hovered with authority. They were of a darkly color, as dark as rising smoke from burning tires. I remember Looking up at them as I ate my food in a huddled crowd of others, I remember they gave me an ominous feel. But they also gave me comfort. Like a wet coat in the rain, it may not completely protect you from the rain, but it is better than not having it. As I was eating my food, I remember feeling an elderly man, probably fifty years older than me shivering wildly. His eyes were dark, circled in depression and misery. His skin wrinkled like an old rag. His breath was sh...