This place.
It looks strange, I think. Or perhaps I'm the stranger. I've never been here before. And everyone is staring.
It feels like the middle of somewhere. People are coming and going, passing me by, while I stand at the centre of a wide open ground.
The ground is concrete, patterned with shapes I don't recognise. A fountain sits in the middle…and everyone keeps moving. No one stops. I'm uncomfortable, something close to nausea rising in me. I want them to stop moving.
“Excuse me,” I call, waving at a man in a grey suit. He scowls and sidesteps me. I gaze around in confusion. Where am I?
A soft tap on my shoulder and my body tenses. I turn to look at the person. He's tall with baby blue eyes I feel I could drown in. His smile is hesitant, his brows knit together with worry.
His gaze moves over me, as if checking I'm whole. But his hands stay clenched at his side, knuckles white. “Laura, are you alright?”
His voice is calm and familiar, like I should know him, and possibly intimately. But I don't remember him. “Who are you?”
The hurt hits his face before he can hide it. “I…I'm your husband, Timothy. You call me Tim.”
“Tim?”
“You were in an accident,” he says gently. “Doctor thinks your amnesia is temporary. I stepped out to get some food and… you were gone.”
The way he explains it, like he lost something precious. I almost feel sorry for him. But there's nothing in me. No memory, no feeling. Just a hollow space.
Will I ever remember who he is?
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "middle of somewhere.
Thank you for visiting my blog.
Image by: Goodinteractive