Write about something that is: underground.
Yup, much quieter at the bakery today. Ended up with 18 loaves at closing, along with lots of bagels and a few croissants and cinnamon buns. Didn't get out of there until just after 4:30 after starting at 9.
With this being my second day in a row, I am very tired right now. Not sure how I'm going to get through the next few days, especially with the Town of Osoyoos staff Christmas party tomorrow night.
Pretty sure I'll be making an early exit from that one.
Consciousness returns slowly, stumbling along on drunken legs. Nausea is close on its heels, moving with unwanted enthusiasm. Memory... memory is absent.
"What...?" I was going to ask What is going on? but that first word did not sound right. It echoed, but it was more than that. It was the... proximity of the surface from which it bounced back to my ears.
Okay. Take a moment to take stock of the situation. Of this continuing blackness. My eyes are open, right? Deep breath. The air stinks of sweat and piss. It's earthy and stale as well. Hints of... a wood of some sort. Is that pine?
Okay. Another deep breath. I feel like I didn't get as much oxygen that time. Maybe not so deep the next time.
Okay. I am flat on my back. My head aches. It seems to be radiating from a point just behind my right ear. That's... probably not a good sign. Is it bleeding? Best check now.
Except... my hands seem to be bound at my waist. Rope. Attached to my belt? I sit up to take a look...
And hit my forehead. On the previously detected wood.
I'm not liking this. The more I discover, the less I want to know. But knowledge comes anyway.
I've been buried alive. In a pine box. Bound and possibly bloody. My oxygen supply is only going to decrease. How did I get here? Don't ask me.
I can't even remember my name.