Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The True Meaning of Heroism

A resounding gunshot ripped through the air. For a second, nothing happened until Andrew's face darkened. Then, he crumbled. Rebekah held his dead weight to her body, clutching his hands as he tried in vain to reach for her. She beheld only the color red--the color of his life seeping away, the color of her broken heart. She cried out until her voice morphed into a croak. Silent tears ran down her face as she thought over and over, "Why did he die to save me?"
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2 comments:

  1. Halie WaddellAugust 25, 2010 at 4:41 PM

    I chose this piece because I wanted to show that life does not always have a happy ending, but valorous deeds live on long after we cease to exist.

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  2. UnknownAugust 25, 2010 at 11:06 PM

    Hm! I wonder if the question could be implied rather than stated. Could the piece show us the moment of sacrifice then, a clear act of intervention on "his" part? In a piece this short, could a brief description of the act itself with minimal context be even more effective?

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