Sentence The Threehundredandfourteenth
He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't, for they seemed to be glued shut; he ached in every bone, his skull felt as if it had been sheared open and then re-glued shut, but with chunks of his brain removed. Nothing like the megrims he often experienced, no, this was ten times worse; he felt around with his hands, but the signals reaching his brain were broken and confused, none of his senses seemed to be under his control: he couldn't remember his name, or where he was, or why; he had no recollection of anything before . . . . .before . . . . .before now; he wondered if he was a baby, newly born, but then realised that a baby didn't know what it was, so that couldn't be it; was he one of those stupid voluntourists who go to war-zones to give aid and become casualties themselves? no, he only knew that whoever he was, wherever he was, he seemed to be lying on his back on ground, outside then, this wasn't floorboards, or a carpet, and it didn't feel like a road; words were slowly being formed, that was good, and he wasn't dead, unless this was what it was like to be dead, but he wouldn't know about that; and the image of his mother came to him, and he remembered her pulchritude, her smile, her warmth and her fragrance, but she was long dead, or was she? for he had no idea how old he was himself, what date it was, what year, or whether anyone would miss him give him an encomium, had he ever earned one, was there anyone who would weep over him if he were indeed dead, or in some kind of limbo; he felt exhausted – was he thinking too much? Yes, he probably was - then he began to hear sounds, but was unable to process them into something he could name so he didn't know if they were animal, vegetable or mineral and he almost laughed, but the pain in his head and body was too intense, but he had remembered something, from long, long, ago: a radio programme his parents used to listen to on the wireless and that was it's name: Animal, Vegetable or Mineral and three eminent scholars had to identify something by asking twenty questions – wait! was that the name: Twenty Questions? or was he getting the two confused? oh, this was too taxing, so he tried to relax and empty his mind, but the sounds seemed closer, much closer, above the rushing wind in his ears he could distinguish something of them: they were definitely animal!
He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't, for they seemed to be glued shut; he ached in every bone, his skull felt as if it had been sheared open and then re-glued shut, but with chunks of his brain removed. Nothing like the megrims he often experienced, no, this was ten times worse; he felt around with his hands, but the signals reaching his brain were broken and confused, none of his senses seemed to be under his control: he couldn't remember his name, or where he was, or why; he had no recollection of anything before . . . . .before . . . . .before now; he wondered if he was a baby, newly born, but then realised that a baby didn't know what it was, so that couldn't be it; was he one of those stupid voluntourists who go to war-zones to give aid and become casualties themselves? no, he only knew that whoever he was, wherever he was, he seemed to be lying on his back on ground, outside then, this wasn't floorboards, or a carpet, and it didn't feel like a road; words were slowly being formed, that was good, and he wasn't dead, unless this was what it was like to be dead, but he wouldn't know about that; and the image of his mother came to him, and he remembered her pulchritude, her smile, her warmth and her fragrance, but she was long dead, or was she? for he had no idea how old he was himself, what date it was, what year, or whether anyone would miss him give him an encomium, had he ever earned one, was there anyone who would weep over him if he were indeed dead, or in some kind of limbo; he felt exhausted – was he thinking too much? Yes, he probably was - then he began to hear sounds, but was unable to process them into something he could name so he didn't know if they were animal, vegetable or mineral and he almost laughed, but the pain in his head and body was too intense, but he had remembered something, from long, long, ago: a radio programme his parents used to listen to on the wireless and that was it's name: Animal, Vegetable or Mineral and three eminent scholars had to identify something by asking twenty questions – wait! was that the name: Twenty Questions? or was he getting the two confused? oh, this was too taxing, so he tried to relax and empty his mind, but the sounds seemed closer, much closer, above the rushing wind in his ears he could distinguish something of them: they were definitely animal!
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