The Fall

I was walking home from work one day when I decided to take a different way. As I pass an old man sitting on an old, dirty blanket he stops me.

"Have I seen you before?" he says squinting at me.

"I don't think so." Have I seen him before?

"No I've seen you before. You got hit by a car," he nods his head, "Right over there."

"No. That's not me." I turn away thinking this man must be crazy when I see it. Me. The car. Bam. Over and over. But I'm here. Right?

Am I dead? I can't be.

It's stuck in my brain.

A picture of myself falling.

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