He most definitely knew what hit him. His family and friends would seek solace in the standard untruth that “at least he didn’t feel any pain.” He felt hurried for thoughts, yet couldn’t think of anything in particular from his newfound location on the floor, which was more agreeable than he thought it’d be. No prayer. No flashes of the past. No last words. He hoped there would be time to explain all this before accepting the realization that no one ever wants to truly understand anyway. He’d have to leave the way he came. Alone.
Tommy Lorden lives in Boulder.