The Thunderstorm

by Oksana

translated by Olga

2

When he came to his senses he felt a dull ache all over his body. He could hardly open his eyes, and when he did he looked around. He was lying on the bed in a small room. It was light outside… so it was daytime, maybe morning. It was raining.
Mason tried to move but his body wouldn't obey him. It seemed there was a stony plate over him.
The door was opened, and a man entered. He was in his fifties. He approached Mason and smiled, "Thanks God! You had me worried. You feel out of sorts right now, but it will soon pass. You got it hard. Do you remember anything?"
"No," Mason forced out hoarsely.
"Absolutely nothing?"
Suddenly Mason realized he really remembered absolutely nothing, he did not even remember who he was.
"Don't worry, it will come," the man said quietly. "You have to gain strength now."
The man stood up and went out, and in a minute a woman entered with a cup in her hand.
"At last! We were worrying about you," she smiled.
She radiated a calm warmth so that Mason felt immediately better.
"You must eat it, it's broth", she brought the spoon to Mason's lips.
He swallowed it hard. It hurt him even to swallow. But the woman wouldn't give up, "You must eat to muster your strength. Take a bit more," she cajoled.
Mason had a few more spoons of broth.
"That's a good boy," the woman smiled tenderly at him.
She left, and the man came back.
"I would like to know who you are," Mason started.
"Tomorrow," the man interrupted. "It's all for tomorrow, now you need to rest. Tomorrow we will try together to clear things up, if we can."
He took a syringe from the table, filled it and made an injection. Soon Mason got wrapped in a warm cloud, and he sank into it…

Previous PageNext Page

Back To Mason's Page

Home Page