My brain and body ache as I drag myself out of bed and slide my feet into a pair of navy blue slippers. I really need to piss. I stumble into the bathroom and flip a switch, allowing the light to flicker on, letting a meek glow settle onto my weary face. My eyes adjust to this newfound light, and fall onto a strange set of sentences etched upon my skin. I rub my arm, attempting to scratch them away, they won’t budge. The sentences read, ‘you have Alzheimer’s. You love your wife. Your name is Keith.’ The strangest part of that, is I dont recall having a wife, however my name is Keith… perhaps its a two truths one lie, or two lies one truth? I have no recollection of having Alzheimer’s…
I turned my arm, searching for more information, something to heal this growing pain of unknowing, and then, like I had been kissed by the devil’s fowl lips, another mystery befell me. A second message, this time, however, it was messy, and done in thick black ink; that of a marker pen. The words jumped out at me, ‘THE TATTOOS ARE A LIE.’ My stomach churns, my brain desperately searches for answers. Nothing. I don’t remember anything.
No longer in need of a piss (the panic must have wiped it clean from my mind) I head back to the bedroom. In the bed, a woman began to stir awake, “Keith? What are you doing up?” She says, forcing herself into an upright position. “Oh… erm, I just needed to pee.” I responded, awkwardly scanning her face, trying to gain any sense of familiarity, still, I could remember nothing.
plushflink t1_izuq8n9 wrote
Reply to [WP] You wake up, and stumble to the bathroom to pee. You realize you have a tattoo on your arm you didn’t see before. It reads “You have Alzheimer’s. You love your wife. Your name is Keith.” Then you notice your hand, on which is scrawled in sharpie: “THE TATTOOS ARE A LIE”. by benjancewicz
My brain and body ache as I drag myself out of bed and slide my feet into a pair of navy blue slippers. I really need to piss. I stumble into the bathroom and flip a switch, allowing the light to flicker on, letting a meek glow settle onto my weary face. My eyes adjust to this newfound light, and fall onto a strange set of sentences etched upon my skin. I rub my arm, attempting to scratch them away, they won’t budge. The sentences read, ‘you have Alzheimer’s. You love your wife. Your name is Keith.’ The strangest part of that, is I dont recall having a wife, however my name is Keith… perhaps its a two truths one lie, or two lies one truth? I have no recollection of having Alzheimer’s…
I turned my arm, searching for more information, something to heal this growing pain of unknowing, and then, like I had been kissed by the devil’s fowl lips, another mystery befell me. A second message, this time, however, it was messy, and done in thick black ink; that of a marker pen. The words jumped out at me, ‘THE TATTOOS ARE A LIE.’ My stomach churns, my brain desperately searches for answers. Nothing. I don’t remember anything.
No longer in need of a piss (the panic must have wiped it clean from my mind) I head back to the bedroom. In the bed, a woman began to stir awake, “Keith? What are you doing up?” She says, forcing herself into an upright position. “Oh… erm, I just needed to pee.” I responded, awkwardly scanning her face, trying to gain any sense of familiarity, still, I could remember nothing.
[I got bored so sorry about that 👍]