Echoing Memories

By Johnny Walker

Six years of holding lives in my hands,

of being there when the unthinkable strikes.

Last week,

we lost another—a life taken,

a burden heavier than words can carry.

Today,

a question found me unguarded:

"In your career,

how many fatalities have you faced?"

I paused, fingers counting memories

etched into my trembling hands.

Silent numbers mouthed like prayers,

each one a wound I carry within.

My head lifted, hands quivering,

tears tracing paths long worn on my face.

The floodgates opened;

pain surged deeper

than words could ever reach.

Through sullen eyes, I gazed—

not at the world, but through it,

lost in the weight of moments

I cannot forget.

And then, in a voice trembling, tearful,

I whispered:

"I...I...I; I don’t have enough fingers."

By Johnny Walker