A quiet night.
A weary mind and heart. Some passing cars.
A commotion. A passer-by avoided. Some blows landed.
A raising fear. An escalating quarrel.
Another blow landed.
One joined. More exchanges.
Wondering and lost.
A whole lot joined.
Surrounded.
A chase.
A retreat.
A fall.
Merciless pummeling.
A bottle.
A hard whack.
Shards and a pool of blood.
A stunned glance from the side.
One dizzy.
One stunned.
One raced.
One called.
Some more racing thoughts.
One phone grasped, uncertain.
One last lost, guilty glance.
Left.
Some coward.
The old broken melody, blowing through the trees of Eden.
They say the heart of man is too far gone to save... yet in the quaint humdums of the neighbourhood, in the midst of gains and losses, joys and heartaches, pleasure and pain, friends and foes, battles lost and won, you can just hear that quiet whisper, of an amazing grace....upon this unworthy life.