It might not make much sense, but it can be worked on. You know how it is, the words come from nowhere, the story writes itself in your head at the awkwardest of moments, then if a free moment as soon as possible…
“My God! What happened?”
I could hear, not see. I was moving, lying down, looking up.
But I was blind. Everything was black.
“Car accident, hit a tree, sent the passenger flying through the windscreen. Pity to poor bastard didn’t get the message that seat belts save lives.”
Was I that poor bastard?
“Report?” A new voice, male, authoritative.
“Multiple lacerations, broken collar bone, broken arm in three places, both legs broken below the knees, one badly. We are not sure of internal injuries, but ruptured spleen, cracked ribs and pierced right lung are fairly evident, x-rays will confirm that and anything else.”
“What isn’t broken?”
“Then I would have to say we are looking at the luckiest man on the planet.”
I heard shuffling of pages.
“Yes. On standby since we were first advised.”
“Good. Let’s see if we can weave some magic.”
© Charles Heath 2020