No obvious injuries, no pain. "I really would have like to have seen my horoscope for this weekend," he muttered. Twice he had escaped death, on the other hand, there appeared to be only assholes on the road. It was as if they didn't even see him. He attempted to pick up the rock he had dropped on the road. His fingers closed around it, but couldn't grasp it securely enough to pick it up. Getting bad, he worried. Some brain injury seemed the only possible explanation. He planted his feet towards the bend ahead and resumed his journey. Someone would stop, or he would throw himself under their tires. No one did. An hour and a half of walking at a pretty good clip, not a single car passed, just a brisk breeze and buzzards circling above. He wondered what unfortunate creature had captured their attention. An eerie feeling crept into some distant cache of his psyche. Foreboding currents of mysterious dread had stalked him since the accident. Wonder why? It wasn’t like you nearly got ground to hamburger meat and charbroiled.
