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Guido · 06-10-2003, 02:41 AM

I stood at the edge of the pier for a long time. The sun stretched my face and tightened my skin. I watched the waves flop over one another and waited to feel warmth. Thinking back over the day's events, I stared numbly towards the horizon. "How did it come to this," I screamed.

The man fishing next to me began to slowly back away. I have no idea how I got the cuts on my face. The sun is killing me. My tongue was dry, sandpaper rough.

I looked back over my shoulder to make sure HE wasn't there anymore. To make sure HE wasn't still watching me. That man with the fishing pole, how dare he follow me. All day long he was always two steps behind me: there on the bus, again in the diner, and even on the way to 36th street.

Ha! Now there was a story… 36th street. When I got to 36th street, I turned around and realized that the man had taken off all of his clothes! I was very frightened.

I ran down the street trying to loose this maniac, who seemed so familiar. I ended up here on the pier. Strange, this man seems so familar but nothing else is. I have no idea where I am....how I got here...Or who I am. Who Am I?

My head was killing me...vaguely I remember popping some aspirin earlier that day. They weren't much of a help. This throbbing, pulsing pain was seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere inside my head all at once.

I think the haze is lifting. I hope my memory starts returning as quickly as the pain from these wounds, but not quite as fast as the tide is coming in. I'm begining to wonder if I should find the nearest hospital.

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06-10-2003, 02:41 AM	#12
Guido monkey Join Date: Jun 2003 Location: IL Posts: 15	I stood at the edge of the pier for a long time. The sun stretched my face and tightened my skin. I watched the waves flop over one another and waited to feel warmth. Thinking back over the day's events, I stared numbly towards the horizon. "How did it come to this," I screamed. The man fishing next to me began to slowly back away. I have no idea how I got the cuts on my face. The sun is killing me. My tongue was dry, sandpaper rough. I looked back over my shoulder to make sure HE wasn't there anymore. To make sure HE wasn't still watching me. That man with the fishing pole, how dare he follow me. All day long he was always two steps behind me: there on the bus, again in the diner, and even on the way to 36th street. Ha! Now there was a story… 36th street. When I got to 36th street, I turned around and realized that the man had taken off all of his clothes! I was very frightened. I ran down the street trying to loose this maniac, who seemed so familiar. I ended up here on the pier. Strange, this man seems so familar but nothing else is. I have no idea where I am....how I got here...Or who I am. Who Am I? My head was killing me...vaguely I remember popping some aspirin earlier that day. They weren't much of a help. This throbbing, pulsing pain was seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere inside my head all at once. I think the haze is lifting. I hope my memory starts returning as quickly as the pain from these wounds, but not quite as fast as the tide is coming in. I'm begining to wonder if I should find the nearest hospital.