Remember

A man regains his memory from an unusual sight.

Remember

Lying in the park, feeling the cool, itchy grass scratching his back, icy raindrops pattering his prostrate form, he lay there for..he didn't know how long. It didn't matter how long it had been, or how long it might be. 

From his own perspective, he was nobody. He had no memory of his identity, his past, and without those could he be said to truly have a future? The rain was slow and steady, saturating him from a steel grey sky. He was wearing only scruffy trainers, some old nikes. Non-descript tracksuit bottoms. A stained white t-shirt, remnants of greasy street food, laid loosely against his pallid unwashed skin. An old grey raincoat encompassed this, ragged with unpatched holes. His right pocket - empty, another hole in the bottom. His left - a wallet with a five pound note and an ID card that wasn't his..it belonged to a black woman named Sandra Jones - 43. He did not recognise her, or the address.

A thin film of dirt on his person - a vague uncleanliness. A beard, not too far grown, just itchy and unpleasant. He touched it..a little blood. Looking down, there were specks on his overcoat too, as casually adorned as splashes of paint.

Already exhausted with uncertainties, he continued to lie where he was. The rain intensified a little, seeming to wash away all his thoughts. His curiosities. Any real desire to know who he was, where he was or should be, the energy simply was not within him to wonder. All that was left to him was a..regret. A profound and unplaceable sadness owed to some forgotten memory. A desperation and fear.

Time passed. He could sense people, strolling past him, around him. He could sense himself being largely ignored, or tutted at in distaste. He could, finally, see a concerned young lady walk into his field of vision.

"Mister.." she began "..are you ok? You don't look so good.."

His head flared up, on the right hand side, and his hand rushed to it. Through his thick hair, the skin was uneven, damaged, and extremely sore to the touch. Blunt trauma?

"Ugh" he quietly groaned back. He didn't like being disturbed. It was getting dark. The lady crouched over him, concerned. Whoever this passing stranger was, she seemed confused, a little frightened. Though, what could she have done to help?

A low rumble..no, a roar, rumbled in the distance. Not a storm..an animalistic roar from the sky, approaching and getting louder. All he could see at first was the young lady spin her head to the sky in shock, he couldn't see the sheer awe and confusion on her face. She was clearly tense, panicked. 

The next instant, he could see a flash of orange, hear a more intense cry. The periodic orange flashes of flame illuminated black scales, and forceful wings gliding powerfully through the air. Another figure, laughing joyfully to himself, rode through the sky on this terrible dragon.

From far below, he locked eyes with the creature. Then he remembered.

Author's Note

This story ties in with "Chicken". I usually don't do any continuity.

Reviews

[Maya]

I see bright future for your writing! Can't wait to see where the series is heading! :)

[Vasilees Sybissyl]

The ending is awesome. Straight up awesome. Chicken was an amazing story in itself, and this just adds to the flavour. This is a great series.

Love,
Vasilees.