Chapter 1 (02/08/2019)
Chapter 2 (02/24/2019)
Chapter 3 (02/25/2019)
The air was crisp. The breeze was a whip. The light was dim. The street was still. The night was…
He didn’t know what the night was. He couldn’t put it into words, anyway. The feeling it gave him, it… Even that, he could not put into words. Things were not right. Things were… wrong.
Yes, wrong.
What was his name again? He felt it a few moments ago. He hadn’t known the exact word, but he had felt it. And feeling was a start. Feeling is where things begin.
Why did his hands hurt so much? His feet, too. His whole body. His head. Everything hurt.
Was it the cold? It must be.
He should… walk. But where? Anywhere.
He walked. The pain did not go away.
How long had he been walking? A while, at least.
Was the pain still there? Yes.
What was that noise? Shrieking. Screams, too. God, it was annoying.
Where did the noise go? The screams… they stopped.
There’s… there’s no pain. He felt… naked. The pain had been so comforting.
Mumbling… someone mumbling.
“….good…”
“…how…”
“… feeling…”
What was his name again? If only he could remember. He couldn’t even feel it now; he felt nothing.
“…hear…”
Seriously, what was his name?
“….toes…”
Mumbling… why mumble? It’s so hard to understand.
“…sir…”
Nice voice… but why mumble? God, the voice was so annoying.
“…help…here…”
The voice was gone. He remembered hating it before, but now that it was gone… he longed for it. He felt better now. His thoughts were much clearer, much more pronounced.
What was his name? Still, the answer eluded him. It eluded him like a gnat in water eludes the finger that comes to purify the glass.
Funny how he remembers the annoyances of a gnat, but not his own name. What else did he remember? Not much, apparently.
Perhaps more important: Where was he?
The voice is back. Oh how he missed the voice.
“…hello there…”
Oh god, please shut up.
“…passed out…”
Back to the mumbling again, I see.
“…worried…”
The voice droned on. There were pauses here and there, as if the voice was awaiting feedback. As far as he could tell, there was no feedback given. How rude. The one expected to give feedback was a poor conversationalist.
Ahh, so he remembered what a conversation was. He even knew what constituted a good one.
“…not responding…”
The voice was so annoying. If only it would go away for good.