Ficlets

The back of my head hurts so badly! I can’t focus my vision. I can’t move. I can’t feel anything but the stabbing pain dead center at the back of my skull.

I try but can not remember what I had been doing, where I had been going.

Panic! Trying to breathe! No feeling! No memory!

Someone screaming!

My vision clears slightly and I see the street at street level. I’m lying on my side. Someone else lies a few feet from me, not moving, shoe souls pointed at me. He’s wearing my clothes. What am I wearing!? He’s wearing my ring! Do I know this person? My awkward angle prevents me from seeing who he is.

He stole my stuff, but wait. I strain to see more clearly in spite of the explosion in my head, a scar on his hand. I know that scar. It’s been a part of my life since I ran into a rose bush learning to ride my bike when I was 6.

Funny what you remember. He is me . . .

Man! My! Head! Hurts!