Charlie

His eyes were charcoal. A thin film of gray would surface over them as his breathing slowed and his gaze narrowed. He looked at me intently. He looked at me like I was the filter of a cigarette. Like I possessed no promises and insisted a slow craving of undying doom. His head faced down after finding the slightest and most insignificant horror on my face. I wanted to gasp. I wanted to dive in some relinquishing escape of anyone's final breath. I thought, who would pass up their one final breath? His eyes became an accumulation of gray. Beads of ash. I backed away slowly... and unlatched the cage.