The lost

Not everyone who is lost wants to be found. The young man in this story;does he?

He feels the pain, surging through him. The metal bars in front of him are as real as his dislocated shoulder.  The whisperings continue in his ears . It seems like they're  getting louder by the moment. He grasps the metal bar, feels his fingertips on the locks but alas it was open. 

    He wanders into the open street. He's the only oneon the street it seems or is it just his imagination.  The last he remembers was that he was hit in the mouth . He feels the point of that hit but a plaster stands there like a badge of honour. 

    He doesn't know where he is and there's no one to ask, he is like a stranger in an unknown unhabited land, he's discouraged and this might be a disaster, he's more than a disaster; he's lost.

Author's Note

My first writing on WritersCafe, what do you think?