Fragments Chapter 2 Page 3

Too many “aaaaaaa’s” not enough “nk,” or something.

“Is this heaven?”

A big loud voice, only in his head, no words forming. Speech, but no mouth, everything echoing, going nowhere.

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker. In Frank’s case it was the physio, the psych and the district attorney.

Slowly but surely, bones fusing, the numbness of his brain abating Frank began his recovery, if it could be called that. Each morning he awoke to a fresh lawsuit against his firm. Always in the past, sharp of mind, this was the hardest part for him. His brain clunking into gear over writs and bankruptcy documents. He felt like a four year old trying to fit