A hundred and fifty yards ahead of the rest he heard something that made the rash he had been sunken about that morning seem inconsequential. Advancing only his chin, trying to clear it of his doomed body he made the mistake of compassion. Looking back he saw the others stopped, waiting for a signal. He was honest. Two-to-one and then zero, unless... He had prepared for this. An instant pop and freeze ice pack, four days of Styrofoam eating trays glued ingeniously together for safe transport, a list of his top choices for both cases, a vulgar post card, and a zip lock bag.
A hundred and fifty yards back they all agreed they might have done the same. "He was always a planner" Remarked one, handing off the binoculars.
Five minutes later they were all united again, patting him on the shoulders, sweat cooled on his forehead, his eyes far away. Should he send it? Having been so committed he felt now it would all go to waste. He would send it, be more careful next time, and if he ever got a real chance again, not careful at all. Maybe carry a safety pin, sleep only with strict women.
amen
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