《Good For Gone》Warm Cheeks and Canned Beans
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It took me a second to process what I'd heard. I wiped my eyes and glanced up towards the only other thing that could possibly made that noise.
His eyes were shut but the little smile was still painted on his face. Although this time it seemed less rigid and more dreamlike.
I glanced down at the torn shirt and saw a shallow rise and fall of the chest that poked through.
I stay there for a moment, dumbfounded. I mean, it was strange enough that he'd been healing, but to see the body that had been a bloated rotten mess a week ago breathing was almost too much.
I considered the idea that my sadness was causing me to go a little crazy. Getting to my knees I crawled over to him slowly, legs shaking and floor creaking.
Up close he definitely looked like he was breathing. If I looked close enough I could even see his nostrils flare slightly as he exhaled.
I reached out, pulse pounding so hard I could feel it in my fingertips. Ignoring the feeling I lightly pressed my had to his cheek, but recoiled quickly.
He was warm, slowly becoming a human temperature. I could see color returning to his lips.
Sliding my hand down to his chest I felt a heartbeat murmuring through skin. Then I grabbed his arm and lifted it to examine the pink shade of his fingernails. I gripped his hand, and it felt like any other hand I'd ever held.
I felt a little giggle of joy burst through my lips. He was alive. I just couldn't believe it. My hands began to tremble.
I didn't even know what it could mean. Would he be a real person? Act, think, and talk like a living being?
Only days ago he looked like he'd been mauled by a wild animal and left in the sun for a week. But here he was, sleeping peacefully next to me.
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If he was going to wake up, he would probably need a few things. I jumped up and shot out the door, not caring who saw.
I sprinted all the way to my house and into my kitchen. Grabbing a plastic shopping bag, I began throwing in water bottles and canned food. There was a cheap fleece blanket stuffed in the back of my closet and I threw it in as well.
I was too excited to try and think of anything else so I stuck with that and ran straight back out the door, leaving a very confused dog in my wake.
Running full on all the way back with the bag knocking against my leg I only slowed when I got to the door.
Panting happily, I ran straight to the kitchen only to feel my breath hitch in my throat. He wasn't where I left him, and I heard a creak behind me.
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