Camping Trip

I have forty seconds
left to live.
Judging from the distance
between the alpha’s gaping maw
and my exposed neck,
I have two choices to consider:
grab the sharp rock by my foot,
or jump.
Turns out;
too little
too late.
The omega
steps out of the mist.
The cliff it is, then.

[I]llustration by Hannah Stinson