- little red
First he wondered what had happened.
He didn't remember a thing. He was lying on the ground, feeling, well, he didn't know. He was sure it was not very good, because he felt like he could feel a lot better. Still, he was alive. That was a good thing, wasn't it? When he tried to recall what had happened, all that came back to him was darkness and a feeling of sleeping for a long time. When he woke up he was where he was now, lying exactly like he was now. Come to think of it, he hadn't moved at all. He tried moving a part of his body. It hurt a great deal.
Then he wondered how he he had survived.
Something very bad must have happened, considering the state he was in. He wasn't sure exactly what state that was, but it wasn't a very good one. He had been asleep for a long time, that much he thought he knew. So, howcome he was where he was? And why? Looking around, there was nobody in sight, in fact he was half-way up a small hill. A forest loomed not far away.
Later he pondered how lucky he had been.
The problem was, of course, the he didn't know how lucky he had been, or if he had been lucky at all. Perhaps he was going to die anyway. Perhaps he was left here, unable to move, nowhere to get, and slowly would fade away. It wasn't a prospect he liked. At some point, he thought, he had to move. Only not yet.
Still later he thought perhaps the price wasn't worth it. That was when the headaches came.
Even later he wondered why it rained.
And he was thirsty, so he drank.
Then came all the hamsters.
And he was hungry, so he ate them. But it didn't really do much to still his hunger. Once more, he tried to remember where he was, and how he got here. He tried to remember who he was. He got answers, but the trouble was the answer was "I don't know."
He was not a hamster, he was fairly sure of that. And if he had been, he would now be a cannibal. The thought made him uncomfortable. Cannibalism was for primitive creatures and sick people. So that meant he was not a primitive creature or a sick person. But then what? Who?
Well, it was conceivable, he acknowledged, that he could be an unprimitive creature. Or a normal person? Was he a person? Touching his body gave him no answers, it was all too familiar to tell him who or what he was.
He felt certain he was not a bird. He had no wings. He couldn't see them, so that was not why he knew. No, he had tried to fly. Ah, that was it. He had tried to fly, and sort of failed. But somehow he was still alive. He didn't know why he wanted to fly, and the mere thought made him chuckle a strange, blipping noise of amusement. So he was clearly not a creature meant to fly.
Looking in a direction he assumed was up, he looked at the dark clouds passing by as the rain poured down.
Then lightning struck, and the hamsters laughed. And this time he didn't eat them, because they came to take him away.