Miles Ahead of the Past

A man wonders if he's got any second winds left

He had fought for his country. He had fought for her love. He had fought for his children. He was tired— tired of fighting, tired of losing. He was done. Nothing left; he was done. He said as much to the group and looked down at his lap.

"I know what you mean, man." It was Jody. Jody always seemed to know what Miles meant. Julia slowly rolled out her story; it was a story the group knew by heart. But telling it seemed to make her feel better... at least for a while. Until she went back to the alley she called home after the shelters closed.

When she finished, Burt asked if anyone else wanted to share. Since no one did, he brought the Survivors of Chronic Emotional Trauma to a close, ending with a prayer that Miles always thought sounded like a plea.

As they got up, Jody sidled over to him.

"We're done, man," he said. "The rest of us here, we're done in. We might survive, but we ain't never gonna thrive again." He paused. "But not you. I can feel it; I can hear it when you talk to us. You're stronger than this, Miles. Go live the life you've earned. Don't come back here, man. You've still got some fight left in you, brother."

As Miles walked out the doors into the bright sunlight, he noticed how green the trees were, and how clean the sidewalk was. He noticed smiles on people's faces, and he smelled the odor of the fruit market on the corner. He walked away from the door and joined the foot traffic on the sidewalk. Now he was the one who was smiling. He discovered Jody was right: he had a bit of fight left in him after all.

NOTES: ▶︎

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the phrase "Don't come back"