Found at the bottom of some stairs (apparently)
There’s nothing more terrifying than waking up in a silent ward without any recollection of how you got there. It’s a natural instinct to stumble free of the starched sheets and stagger off down the corridors, trying every door. That’s what I did anyway
‘At the bottom of some stairs,’ said the doctor when I asked where I was found. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself, love. We all make mistakes.’
But what was mine? Two pathetic glasses of wine?
Sketchy memories were one thing but total memory loss was another. Twenty years on and I’ve still no idea what happened.
Written for Friday Fictioneers