FOWC: Memory

fullsizeoutput_1460FOWC: Memory

He licked his lips to find soil around his mouth and inside his mouth, one side of his face was cold and damp from lying in the dirt, the other side covered in little white pustules. His clothes were damp and he was worried to see what state they were in or indeed where he was, he hadn’t opened his eyes yet.

He knew it was daytime, the birds were twittering in the trees around him and he could feel the sun on the sore side of his face. The country had been having a heat wave, hose pipe bans were in operation but many were ignoring them. Gone were the days of us all being in this together, it was now very much a me, me, me society. People didn’t care for the rules as much, cut backs had forced the authorities to concentrate on the issues which displeased the least, discipline and laws were now dealt out on TV and on the sides of busses. Reminding folk to shower instead of bathe, to buy astroturf for their gardens, not to waste water.

Ironically the build up of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere could do nothing to remedy the shortage of the gas in the drinks industry. Some pubs and bars only had certain beers on, they chose to put the stronger beers on so as to keep the punters happy and pissed, and prevent riots similar to the ones which flared up last time the choice of beers were severely limited.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the dappled light, he was in a ditch filled with dappled ditch light and bags full of dog shit. There was a shopping trolley, well there would be, and a traffic cone, a mangled tangled bush of barbed wire, and a shadow of a man. God he felt awful and so he sat up, and clambered out of the ditch, surprising a lady pushing a pram, and as she walked past turned back to look at him with sorrow and disgust, tutting audibly. He reached for his cigarettes as he stood slightly bent checking his body for any significant injuries; only his pride it seemed. His phone was still just about awake and he saw he had some texts from his mates from the previous night.

5 or 6 reading “Where are you?” or words to that effect, he got the gist of it. He had gone to find a toilet and from that moment he had no memory. No clues, just the result of him lying in a ditch near the river covered in shit.

“Damn those strong beers, I hope they sort out this CO2 shortage” he thought to himself as he shuffled down the tow path bending his sunglasses over his face to cover his eyes.

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