Prologue
Brian's Song
Prologue
There was not a stitch on him.
He was completely in the .
His only covering was the red satin blankets.
Twisted around his nether region and legs.
Neon lights from the headboard blinked crazily into his eyes.
Oh god...
He squeezed his eyes from the glare and tried to sit up, suddenly feeling the whole room spinning around him.
Where am I?
He forced his way up from the bed, searching for his clothes.
But none were to be found.
Nor his wallet and handphone.
How did I get here?
He saw a phone by the side table and lunged towards it.
Yet, when he started to dial a number, his head went blank.
With his throbbing head, he searched around for something to cover himself with.
Luckily, he found a bathrobe in the cupboard, and thankfully it was in decent white.
Not waiting any longer, he pushed himself out the bedroom door and stumbled through the dimlit corridor and into the reception area.
Again, gaudy red and black neon decor greeted him.
Love motel, his head registered. I'm in a love motel.
This is not right. How did I get here, he asked again.
People were milling about or busy getting rooms to take notice of him.
He slipped out the side door, not caring his state of undress.
The cold night air hit him hard as he stepped outside.
The freezing sidewalk below his bare feet, did not help ease his discomfort either.
There were no one in sight to come to his aid.
They were smart enough to stay in doors on a night like this.
He stumbled along none the less.
He was weak and disoriented.
He knew he was going to pass out soon.
So, he tried to take shelter at the first possible place he could find.
As if to heed his call, a lone truck stood by the side of the lonely road.
Quietly beckoning him to take haven in its folds.
And so he did.
He climbed up to the back of the truck and under its thick tarp cover.
And he gave in to the sweet oblivion of nothingness.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Comments