The day I died.
.
Sounds a little cliche.
.
Almost like someone's memoir.
.
I just called it Tuesday.
.
I had read some good memoirs in my day. Memoirs of a Dalak. That was a good one. Tuesday's with an Ood. That was another one. Memoirs and Tuesdays.
Amazing what you think of when you're going to die. Course, I didn't know it at the time. I just called it shock. Actually no. I still just called it Tuesday. That man
now picked himself up off the ground and came to stand by me. His dark blue dress shirt had one large hole ripped into it about where his heart would be. The
edges were jagged and stained with blood but there was no visible injury. "Odd." I couldn't keep from musing that out loud, but he just cocked an eyebrow at me
with a small smile. "Do you know who I am?" I squinted at his face, wondering if I did know him. Finally, I just told the truth. "Not your name. I've just seen you
before. Somewhere." He gave a real smile this time, one that reached those gorgeous blue eyes. I looked back into the building. "Did you know that was going to
happen?"
He shook his head. "No but a friend of mine did. He was in there with them."
"Well, where have they gone?"
"Don't know. But I will soon, and when I find out…" He was cut off by a beeping that came from a thick leather strap on his wrist. "Ooh, there we go." He pushed
a couple buttons, and straightened his shoulders as if to prepare himself to run. Suddenly he stopped, and looked thoughtfully at me. "Fancy to come along?" He
grinned, and sparks of merriment danced across his eyes as I melted inside. He held out his hand to me. "Let's see where they went."
.
To this day, I don't know why I grabbed his hand.
