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So far as she knew, the continuation of the cosmos had ceased. She perceived neither the ticks on the clock, nor the distances between her and other objects. Even shouting produced no noise, and it was as if all had merely ceased to be...
For the first time in my life, I was being brought for medical care. I was on a stretcher, being hoisted into an ambulance by the time I came to. Blood blacked out the vision in one of my eyes. I tried to sit up, before a heavy hand pushed me back down.
It was supposed to be a NICE evening--the only one that I would have off this week. Then this punk and his crew come out of this alleyway and start making threats like they own the streets. Like they think they can scare me.... I'm just standing here trying to concentrate--which one should lose his teeth first?
The only thing keeping me from turning the doorknob and entering through the front door, was for what I knew was waiting for me on the other side. I knew, despite the lack of reply, there was someone lurking, a large-caliber weapon trained on where I would burst in.
Blood was everywhere. There was nothing but red hand prints and the markings of a body being dragged through the gore. Guess bandages wouldn't help this guy....
I'd never heard such an idiotic suggestion in my entire life--that made sense, anyway. I wasn't about to admit it to this guy, but his advice actually did make sense. I wasn't sure how to react except that usual angry way you act when you're beaten, yelling in frustration to drown out the person who was right, to put off the illusion you're still convinced they're wrong.
The bucket was the last thing on my mind as I carried it down to the river. No one needed to think I was nervous about it or thinking about it. If I did, then someone ELSE would think about it or notice that its cargo wasn't exactly normal.
The last time I saw him, he wore a pair of overalls and sandals. I could hardly believe how much he'd changed since then. Now he wore a suit, a pair of nice shades, and carried a gun at his hip.
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