I can feel the blood pooling inside my wool jacket as I helplessly lay in a wheat-field outside of Electroskovodsk. I cannot help but stare up at the great blue sky above me as it swallows my entire field of view in its gigantic and indifferent jaws. It calls to me, not with words, but with its entire presence. It is so huge, I am but a mote of dust beneath it.
I could not see the sniper who shot me, nor could I any longer feel that my hand still clutched the useless and unused magnum revolver. My nerves had already begun to harden and die. The blue sky turns inward, purple and black. I slip into darkness.
You are unconscious.
Footsteps, a zombie howl.
You are dead.
Without a doubt, an inauspicious death - but deservedly so. That life was focused on gear: guns, bullets, camo and baggage. The more I had the more exposed I felt, a squealing pig more content to hoard than to survive.
I had played it all wrong. So very wrong(ly).
Strange as it seems, I felt relief as I waited for death and in my new life, armed with only I flashlight, I ironically feel stronger and lighter.
I am resolved to only carry and take what I need to survive. To focus on the expansion of my armory is nothing short of stupidity.
We shall see how this story plays out.
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