After the Crash
I wake to see the passengers of my charter huddled around a fire. The one nearest me turns and sees me, his eyes widening.
"He's awake," he whispers, and the others turn to look.
Struggling to stand and failing, I blink several times, trying to clear my head. "How long have I been out?" I ask.
They all keep staring, and finally someone says, "Four days." And then, "We're sorry."
"Sorry?" I say, confused, and the speaker's eyes flick downward.
Looking down, I see both my feet and several inches of leg are missing.
"We ran out of food," he continues. "There's still some left, if you're hungry."
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November 06, 2006
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After doing the cadaver lab at my school today, I can tell you that your psaos major on your leg is similar to filet mignon. I can't blame them.
(OK, I'm kidding. After experiencing cadavers, that's really gross.)
Posted by: Gretchen | November 06, 2006 at 02:34 PM
Ha! I really laughed when I read this story. I almost didn't get it because the word crash made me think of stock market crashes and the word charter made me think of bus charters instead of planes, probably because I see so many bus charters where I work. Still, that was a funny story to me, not just sick. Makes me think of "Lost".
Posted by: Callie | November 14, 2006 at 10:00 PM