What happened last night? The man without a name wondered gently. He'd learned the hard way that wondering with any intensity led to throbbing headaches and a mouth full of bile. He knew it was daytime because he could feel the sun shining on his sealed eyelids if he moved his hands. He knew that wherever he was there were quite a few powerful odors, some of which definitely originated from his clothing and body. He knew that the ground beneath him was surprisingly soft and almost comfortable if you could look past its sticky moistness. But nothing else.
Until he did. It all rushed back the way it did every morning and Brian (who had a name after all) stifled the urge to scream as he resumed his quest to forget everything. Knowing was bad. Knowing meant he might accidentally ruin everything spectacularly. But for good this time...
And there we have it. Micro-fiction. I haven't done any of this in a while. I started to feel like I might have been repeating myself or I worried I might have some source amnesia and rewrite the plot of something famous without realizing it. But paranoia isn't very good for my creativity so here I go.
The random word in this story is....
...
...
"name".
Peace ☮️