The little man sat cold in the chair
After the chemo drip was attached, the nurse covered him with a fleece blanket.
The blanket screamed SPARTANS!, colored in the familiar green and white.
The man sighed heavily, and resigned himself to watch “The Price is Right”.
During the commercial, he looked up at the IV, which dripped, dripped, dripped in silence.
Again, he sighed.
He closed his eyes.
Behind fluttering eyelids, he saw himself 20 years earlier.
Strong, lithe, healthy.
He was hanging out in a tiki bar in Florida, listening to badass reggae riddims while watching college football on TV.
He could almost taste the Rum Runner, and shivered with the cool memory.
He and his buddies were laughing. Sharing motorcycle stories.
He was the only one left now, and he wondered, opening his eyes again, staring at the plastic bag full of vile chemicals, if he’ll ever get another chance to feel the sand of that warm tiki bar under his feet. Ever again.