(no subject)
Consciousness returns with a single and straightforward thought. He can't seem to remember closing his eyes. He knows at some point he must have because how could they open without first closing. This seemingly logical progression is the calm before the sensory storm. A wild array of sensations and observations hit him all at once.
He's on the floor. On his side. In his own kitchen. He aches. Hurts. In some places more than others. His side not touching the floor is the worst. Strewn around him is glass. One of the stools at the kitchenette has been partially knocked over. The sound of traffic seems louder than it should.
He lays without moving as the flood abates. Training and experience eventually kick in, insisting he get up, respond, report. The first movements are slow, the pain in his side flaring. He plants a hand, not registering the crunching sound as he does. It's enough to gain him some leverage. He uses it to drag himself a foot or two to the phone. With the power cord in easy reach, all he has to do is yank. It comes crashing to the floor beside him.
He must have dialed but like closing his eyes, doesn't remember doing so.
He's on the floor. On his side. In his own kitchen. He aches. Hurts. In some places more than others. His side not touching the floor is the worst. Strewn around him is glass. One of the stools at the kitchenette has been partially knocked over. The sound of traffic seems louder than it should.
He lays without moving as the flood abates. Training and experience eventually kick in, insisting he get up, respond, report. The first movements are slow, the pain in his side flaring. He plants a hand, not registering the crunching sound as he does. It's enough to gain him some leverage. He uses it to drag himself a foot or two to the phone. With the power cord in easy reach, all he has to do is yank. It comes crashing to the floor beside him.
He must have dialed but like closing his eyes, doesn't remember doing so.