Thursday, June 21, 2012

O

He l''ked d'wn at his watch and knew that he w'uld be late. He didn't care. He had spent 

his wh'le life being c'urte'usly early 'nly t' find himself waiting a little l'nger.The day 

was seas'nably c'ld and dreary. The N'vember rain was quickly turning the fresh sn'w int' a 

sludgy gray slush. The smell 'f r'tting leaves and car exhaust wafted thr'ugh the air.The 

sidewalk was slippery.
Suddenly he slipped 'n a wet patch. His feet flew up fast, s' fast he 

didn't have time t' prepare a safe landing.
 His head hit the gr'und with a dull thud; 

everything went black. 
When he w'ke up it was dark 'utside. His face and fingers ached; his 

cl'thes were s'aked with the water 'f the dirty gutter in which he had landed. The back 'f 

his head ached, as did his neck.  He sl'wly pulled himself t' his feet. He felt unsteady, 

His knees w'bbled beneath him. He was s' 'ver whelmed by the pain and exp'sure t' the 

elements, he puked int' the rain filled street, watching the v'mit wash al'ng the surface 

'f the water and slide int' the st'rm sewer.  

He l''ked d'wn at his watch. H'w l'ng had he 

been 'ut? But he c'uldn't read the watch face in the dark, that's when it first caught his 

attenti'n.

Where are the streetlights? Where is the traffic?  H'w did I spend all day passed 

'ut in the gutter with n' 'ne n'ticing 'r caring that I was there?

He dug ar'und in his 

p'cket, fished 'ut a cigarette, a lighter, and his cell ph'ne. The ph'nes face pr'claimed 

it t' be 2:37AM, and he had tw' missed calls. Lighting the cigarette with a shiver he 

dialed his v'ice mail.

First message:  "Hey, I'm really s'rry, I'm running ab'ut fifteen, 

twenty minutes behind, I'm c'ming but I will be ab'ut twenty minutes late, h'pe y'u get 

this message, see y'u in a bit. Peace."

Sec'nd message: Hey, maybe y'u didn't get the 

message I left, shit, anyways, well whatever, we'll meet up again s'me 'the..." 

The message 

cut 'ff with the s'und 'f a large crash.

Wh' was this pers'n he was supp'sed t' meet? 

He 

c'ntinued t' shiver. He walked briskly sm'king his cigarette gingerly. He  w'ndered at the 

fact there were n' h'use lights 'n. 'nly after a c'uple bl'cks walking did he realize he 

had n' idea where he was. In fact, he wasn't even certain wh' he was? He searched his 

p'ckets f'r I.D. but failed t' pr'duce any. He pulled 'ut his ph'ne and l''ked at the list 

'f names within. N'ne 'f the names seemed familiar, s' he decided t' call Adam.
N' service.
Amanda.
N' service.
Amy. 
N' service.
Blake.
N' service.

He sat d'wn 'n the c'ld wet curb, put 

his head in his hands, and began t' cry. He felt s' al'ne and scared and l'st. Wh'ever he 

was.

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