What goes round...

After perhaps half an hour, I was exhausted, but the effort, (and the agony) had been worth it, for now I was inside the low entrance to a cave. How far back it went was a mystery but there was no sign apparent of any large animal being resident. I had some shelter, which was good, as the nights at this time of year could be quite chilly, if not to say cold.

I slowly worked my way further back into the cave, which had a surprisingly soft surface. Some sort of lichen I supposed. It certainly gave the cave a comfortable feel. I rested for perhaps a couple of hours watching the light of the evening fade. . My thoughts wandering once more, I was back at the Hospital with the Old Man’s indomitable sense of humour that had never left him. Then, coming to my senses once again, I lay considering ways of improving my position; at least there was a trickle of water close by.

Now for my leg. I cut the leg of my pants and examined the damage more thoroughly, fainting in the process. Bone protruded from the wound below my knee but thankfully the bleeding had all but stopped. It was a bad injury that would mean a visit to the colony medics who would, hopefully, be able to set it right. I then put my hand to the side of my head and found it covered in blood and that my right arm was badly scraped. I lay back, as sleep demanded my full attention, and dozed off.

I slept fitfully that night and woke as dawn brightened into full daylight. I lay for a few minutes remembering what had happened and dreading the inevitable pain when I moved.

Lying there, I let my mind wander over my body, probing, seeking some indication of what would hurt, and how badly, when I moved. As I did so I could tell that something was not right. I could feel none of my injuries. None of the remembered bumps and bruises. No pain. Was I dreaming? Was my mind lying to me? Trying to convince me that I was OK? Tentatively I tried moving a fraction.

Still no pain. Could this be what concussion feels like? The mind refusing to admit to the damage done? I put my hand to my head: it was smooth, felt normal, and my hand came away clean. There was no sign of Yesterday’s bloody wound. My leg felt tight but it didn’t hurt. I looked at it. It was lying straight and was wrapped in, what appeared to be, the same material that covered the surfaces in the cave. As if a dressing had been applied, or rather, something somewhere between a dressing and a cast.

‘Now, what in the Heaven’s name, is going on here?’ I thought to myself. ‘Who has done this?’