Trusting Oneself

Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are. Phil hummed to himself as he gazed at the stars, back wet, lying in a field in the middle of nowhere.

The tune reminded him of when he was young. Perhaps his mother had sung it to him, as he had laid in her lap? No. That couldn't be right. He couldn't remember her. He tried to sit up. Why not - why should he forget her? It hurt to sit up. He wheezed. That hurt too. He tried to remember his mother, but only shadows entered his mind's eye, which was strange; he couldn't remember her dying when he was young. He tried wriggling his fingers.

"That said," Phil thought to himself, "I can't remember her actually still being alive." His right hand was stiff but still functional. He couldn't feel his left. Maybe he'd just neglected to keep contact with her. Looking over to his side, he realized why he couldn't feel his left hand - he was sitting on it. It seemed he was so cold, neither his fingers nor his backside could feel anything. Why would he forgo contact with his own mother? He became aware of a buzzing sound. But he didn't, did he? He most definitely remembered writing her a letter not last week. The more he tried the more difficult it became.  He recalled an envelope. He remembered opening it, like a door. Presently, the buzzing became louder. A white-washed door, maybe; but it was on its side. A door on a door? That was an amusing thought. He thought about it. A letterbox? A cat-flap? Maybe it was a cat-flap.

He tried lifting himself so he could get access to his left hand. That must have been it - he was installing a cat-flap. The buzzing sound he now realized wasn't a sound at all. It was his arm. Did he have a cat? His arm was orientated funnily. Of course he had a cat, why else would he install a cat-flap? His arm shouldn't be able to bend that way. Look, on his arm, scratches, from a cat. Those weren't scratches. It was blood, on top of the skin. Blood was dripping onto it. From his face. "That's funny," he thought, "my arm's broken. My head's bleeding. Yet, it doesn't hurt. Maybe I'm dreaming." That's when an overwhelming pain took over his body and he passed out again. 

The End

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