Forgotten

Written 56-K07 [2025-05-03], Edited 56-K07 [2025-05-03]

Image credit: Twitter Twemoji

What was I doing again?

Man it was so hard to remember. Life can be hard to keep track of sometimes, you know?

Alright, alright, let’s get an inventory of everything in the room.

A flashlight.

A table.

A microwave.

A stranger gagged and tied to a chair. Oh wait, no. Sorry, silly me, that was my husband.

A combined stove/oven unit. Looks like somebody left the stove on, but there was nothing to cook.

A sink. A fridge.

A countertop.

A bloody knife. Huh. I wonder whose blood that was?

“Hey do you remember whose blood that is?” I asked the stranger.

“Mph” said the stranger. Oh snap, I had forgotten that he was gagged. And was my husband.

And there was a gun, of course, couldn’t overlook that.

But I was a bit puzzled. How did I get in this situation?

Something at the edge of my memory…

I looked at my hands, they were gloved.

I looked at my husband’s hands, they were bloody and tied behind the back of the chair. His fingers could still move.

Where did his wedding ring go?

I heard someone behind me and jumped. “Who are you?” I yelled.

But it was actually just another stranger tied to a chair. Lot of people in that situation today.

What had happened?

Oh wait a second. The second stranger was the babysitter who was naked and hiding in the closet earlier.

Riiiiight! It all made sense.

Okay, okay.

What was I doing again?

This was written in 10 minutes during a Joy of Writing meetup.