Picture it: black corduroy turtleneck, black faded jeans, 12-eye combat boots, and a brown trenchcoat. Wavy, short, brown hair, fair skin, brown eyes, 6' 0", 195 lbs. That was the unconscious body found on Park Ave. that night.

I don't remember much except flashes of violent lucidity - a honking SUV, a pool of blood an inch from my eye, a little girl being held back by her mother as she stared at me and cried. And then, waking up at the ICU, tubes in my nose, and a nurse smiling at me, saying "Good morning."

"You've suffered some head and back wounds, but the doctor will be here soon to talk about that. How are you feeling?"

"Um, where am I?"

"You're at Memorial Hospital. You've been in an accident. Do you remember?"

>>>>>