I think back to this morning but-surprise, I cannot remember much. Okay, in all honesty, I'm not that trying very hard. I mean, could you give a guy that was trampled on by a bus a break? I could be having deliriums.

Actually, it's a sort of a distant disregard for the blasted effort of thinking about your breakfast. I hear commotion around me, feet moving and moving about, voices rising, chattering, yellin, yelling back-but they don't hold much of my attention and concern really. Am I making myself understood here? It's like I don't really care much for what's happening around me at all. I can't make myself really care, not that I care much.

And here is where a small kick of fear hits my chest. Can that be just shock? Trauma, perhaps? The mind's self-defense in face of life-threatening situation? Am I induced to this state to avoid compounding my injuries by, oh, I don't know, shrieking perhaps in agony while clawing my way across the asphalt road, foaming at the mouth.

All the while these thoughts are running through my numb head I am aware that I am not in much pain. Like I said earlier, perhaps something important is severed somewhere. Perhaps that severed connection cut off my supply of concern, too! Ha! ha! ha!

The blast of dirt and dust across my face interrupts the stream of mental laughter. I cough out most of it with additional curses flying in the air. They are moving the bus. Someone is yelling that they move it slowly, the victim is still breathing underneath. Yeah brother, and please park your boot somewhere instead of my arm.

They have rolled the bus a fair distance by now, and I'm aware of medics kneeling beside me. I focus on blurs of white and streaks of blinding light, before I hear a voice ask me a third time, "Can you breathe just alright?" I stare at him uncomprehendingly, then a thought occurs to me: the ABC's of first aid. Yeah, that's right, first check the airway, then the....the...I can't remember what B stands for, but I'm sure C is for circulation.

"Not responding!" I hear, before remembering to answer. I open my mouth to say "yes", but I'm not given the chance as a mask was slipped on and I feel the blast of oxygen. Someone beside me was telling me to relax, and I hear the word stretcher. Oh man, not good. Must be broken...I don't know, probably lots of the stuff.

But that does not frighten me. What does is the utter lack of concern on my part. There's fear, but fear that might have been as well someone else's. Outside me.What does this mean? Hey brother, what's wrong with me? Can you touch that severed important connection to the other end, uh, just for a second? Then maybe-

Something rolled down my cheek as I felt myself being lifted, probably a drop of blood, or sweat, or...