LOSS... 

By Tessa Harvey 


    Jack opened his eyes, feeling a little cold. It was very dark and something felt wrong. That's it, he thought. The bedcovers have slipped on the floor.

    He reached down and felt pain. Trying again, the pain worsened and his head felt woozy. Tired, he thought that last soccer game must have been too rough. It had been a great match with a good and enthusiastic crowd. He remembered feeling buoyant and fit, but strangely couldn't remember the final score.

    The young man drifted back to sleep. He woke again some time later, realising at once it was still very dark. Jack thought he heard distant voices - late pub-goers, he guessed. 

    There were flames in the near distance and he tried to edge nearer, wondering how there was a fire when they had installed air conditioning. It hurt too much to think. Fighting pain, still very cold, Jack moved a little nearer the flames.

    He must have lost consciousness or fallen asleep again. He definitely heard a voice this time. Trying to focus and not move his aching head too much, he managed to make out someone leaning over a nearby escarpment. 

    "Are you okay?" yelled a girl's voice. "Stupid girl," muttered Jack grumpily. Only a girl would ask that. "No, I'm not okay," he yelled, then winced. The echoes hurt his ears. "Not okay, not okay, not....." "Shuddup," he mumbled again. The girl was scrambling down the slope.

    "Oh," she stopped and stared, assessing him. "You look terrible." Jack did not answer. "Where's my car, my phone? I need to get help."

    "Er...." the girl looked around. "That might be it." She pointed to the smouldering heap nearby, the source presumably of his night-time fire.

    "Hell," he said, feelingly, staring at the inexplicable heap of mangled metal.

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