I don't remember what happened between my shower and now, but I suddenly found myself at the rink.
Coach’s oddly masculine voice snapped me back to reality, “Lucy! What the hell are you doing?"
I stopped in my tracks and whipped around. Her hair was falling out and the smell of cigarettes lingered in the fabric of her 80s jumpsuit.
"You're skating like shit," she stated matter of factly.
As much as I wanted to tell her off, I knew she was right. How could she expect me to concentrate? I was tired and confused, plus I keep blacking out. This morning wasn't the first time that it's happened. One moment I'm walking around, going about my normal business, and then I wake up and I'm somewhere completely different. The difference in time feels like a fraction of a second, but in reality, I black out for hours at a time.
I stopped in my tracks and whipped around. Her hair was falling out and the smell of cigarettes lingered in the fabric of her 80s jumpsuit.
"You're skating like shit," she stated matter of factly.
As much as I wanted to tell her off, I knew she was right. How could she expect me to concentrate? I was tired and confused, plus I keep blacking out. This morning wasn't the first time that it's happened. One moment I'm walking around, going about my normal business, and then I wake up and I'm somewhere completely different. The difference in time feels like a fraction of a second, but in reality, I black out for hours at a time.
I leave the rink and make my way back home. A couple of blocks away from the rink, I hear a strange noise. Mumbling maybe? I don’t know. “… riddles -- all you can say are…" Oedipus Rex, my favorite play! Most people wouldn't guess it, because I'm not really brainy or outgoing, but I have a closeted passion for literature and theatrics.
“... riddles, murk and darkness," I whisper under my breath. Where did that come from? I didn’t mean to finish his sentence; I didn't want the acknowledge the odd man at all. Maybe he didn’t hear me? I hold my breath and close my eyes.
“So you like Oedipus, huh?” replies the raspy voice.
“Sometimes I like to pretend to be Tiresias. Ya know, ‘cause I’m blind and all,” he mumbles.
I’m not really sure what to do. I don’t usually talk to strangers, especially not to old blind men. But there’s something about this old guy that gravitated me toward him. “Yeah, that’s cool. Well, um… I’ve got to go,” I nervously mutter. He seems disappointed. I can see it in his eyes. He probably hasn’t talked to anyone in a while.
Not allowing myself to think about it, I turn and sprint back to Castle Apartments, run up the three flights of stairs, and pause only to jam the key into the yellow stained door marked 346. As the door slams behind me, I black out.
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