I’ve been entering a lot of short story competitions lately – to no avail but you’ve got to keep trying – and as a sideline to editing Choose Yr Future I decided to try some writing prompts to see if I could come up with something that I could develop further so I would have a bank of stories.
You wake up at the side of the road lying next to a bicycle, with no memory and no wallet. What happens next?
When I open my eyes all below me is grey. The surface is cold and I’m stretched out on it. My arms are over my head and I’m nose down. There is pain but it is non-specific. All over. Everything hurts.
First step, raise head. The world is still grey. Clouds meet the road on the horizon. Pushing up further brings about twangs and clicks. Specific pain runs up and down both arms. What have I been doing? Pause before next step while I steel myself for the pain to come. Deep breath. Onto knees. Now legs are joining in with groans of pain and stiffness. The question comes to me from the side, how long have I been here?
A further look around. The road, the hedges, the bridge mean nothing. Low menacing clouds which threaten and suggest I should get home but where was that?
Final step. On feet and scanning properly. My head spins a little as the blood finds itself on high once again. There is a house up ahead. Was that home? It was still a good walk away. But it was a direction to head in. I look behind me, turning slowly which is wise because everything shifts sideways and I wobble. I bend to put my head between my knees and slowly stillness returns. As I’m bent, I see the means of my getting here. Well, I assume. A bicycle. A vision of the air flying past my head and the ground rushing up to me sends me dizzy again. I sit down heavily and each joint and muscle takes its turn in shouting out the pain.
Time passes. I can’t move. My head is too unreliable. I check through my pockets. I could phone someone perhaps. But they are absolutely empty. No phone. No purse. No keys. Nothing. No bag. Not even strapped to the bike. Had I been robbed? Maybe everything had scattered from the bike. But no chance of finding that until I could stop the dizziness.
A car. It is moving fast and I do the same. Foolishly. Darkness grabs me and the next thing I see is a concerned face, quite close to mine. He smiles and a wave of relief comes across his weathered face.
“Thank God.” His voice is soft. He doesn’t want to frighten. “I’ve no idea how to do the kiss of life.”