17: Wheel in the Sky

Dying is not what most people think it is-nothing flashes before your eyes, there’s no white light or what have you. The only thing I felt was pain, the blood flowing through my camisa and fingers, making them sticky and beginning to form a casaco on my clothes. I couldn’t see much beyond the few feet in front of me, the sun had long such set and darkness had fallen on rápido, swift wings. There was one sound: my blood pulsing like it was right in my ears. Eventually I made it to the grama colina where I fell, too weak to walk another step.
While I lay there, certain I was destined...