The Blade

The blade flickers and shines in the sunlight causing a gleam to permeate the surrounding area. Poised, it hangs for a brief moment, a seemingly infinite period when all things appear to stop. And now movement, so fast that at first there is no sound, only motion. Then the impact, a shock that will echo for centuries. In it slips, deeper than expected, and stops as if surprised by a success it did not believe possible. The movement starts again, up this time, but not without difficulty as if its target does not wish to relinquish the action for which it will always be remembered, like two lovers who cannot accept their inevitable separation hope to preserve their final moments together. Now the blade sings, a pulsing rhythm which beats over and over, faster and faster, as noise begins to fill the air. Suddenly the blade hits the ground and bounces back into the air, finally resting on the marble floor. The blade, no longer glinting,

is soon enveloped in a pool of receding life. The sound of stampeding men drowns out the calls of Liberty! Silently the blade lies still. Silently Gaius dies.

By Andrew Cohee