![]() My upper arm is practically unblemished, save for a few dark bruises from last night’s fall, yet it descends an impossibly short distance before ending in a blunt, surreal stump. Now that I’m on the other side, bathed in the quiet warmth of the Wrangler, I’m able to fully assess the extent of my injury. Last night, lost in the muddled throes of shock, the harm had been unquantifiable, the details drowned out by the encompassing haze of severe blood loss and a blaring, primal alarm which had forced me to move without questioning why. My hand feels like lead as I raise it up and brush it against his hair, holding him against me.Īs the man continues to sob, I let my head roll slowly to the right, observing the damage to my arm. He repeats those two words as he lumbers towards me, throwing his arms around my waist and resting his head on my left shoulder. Rob Guthard’s weathered face bursts into a heaving mess of tears. ROB: Miss Sharma I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! In its absence, his features cringe into sudden, uncontrollable sadness. Rob tries to recover his smile, but it slips quickly from his grasp. ROB: Of course… yeah of course that’s… sorry… I think Bluejay would’ve appreciated that information last night. Even in my weakened state I can’t help but laugh though it admittedly comes out as stilted wheezing, diffusing quietly into the air.ĪS: No that’s… that’s actually very “you”. Rob seems almost insulted, and thinking back to everything I’ve learned about him over the course of this trip, I can see why he might be. ROB: You think I’d risk gettin’ out this far with only one copy of my car key? You were in shock, and since the battery don’t run down anymore I thought. ROB: Wanted to warm up the place for you. I was comin’ to help when I heard this awful noise. When she into the forest, I got free, took the med kit into the trees, fixed myself up a little. ROB: Denise had me at gunpoint, had to act like I was all but dead. ROB: You just lay back Miss Sharma, I just finished patchin’ you up but I gotta make sure it’s good work. Hearing my voice, the figure shuffles round and kneels before me, staring into my eyes as they slowly regain their focus. When I try to address them, I discover that my voice has withered to a spectral whisper, so frail that it hardly exists at all. There's somebody kneeling beside me, tugging at my right shoulder. I’m in the back of the Wrangler, propped up against a soft pillar of luggage. Without an ounce of strength left in my body, all I can do is peer through my eyelashes, taking in the vague scene before me. When my eyes finally work themselves open, the sun is beginning to rise. Unable to divine its purpose, I let the sensation fade away, before descending once more into the placid darkness. In the world I currently inhabit, only an echo of the pain reaches me, but I can tell that it was once substantial. I briefly feel my body lift up from the ground, gravity pulling at my limbs as I’m conveyed through the forest.Īn unknowable stretch of time later, I feel a distinct burning sensation to my right. The rest of the night unfolds in fleeting snapshots. I can feel myself drifting away, surrendered to an almost imperceptible tide, carried slowly but inexorably from the world. A featureless, directionless, timeless void that exists at the weakest point of life. Auspicious times.ĭrop me a line if you’re in the city or if you have any information at all.Īs the darkness closes in, I find myself dragged deeper and deeper into the depths of my own subconscious, until I sink through the back of my mind into an indescribable place. ![]() I’m posting this log from my first American hotel room, which offers a gorgeous view of both the state hospital and a local prison. However, I’m pleased to announce that, as of yesterday night, I’ve finally touched down in Phoenix, Arizona.
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