Echoes of a Summer Night
I woke up in a sterile hospital room, the rhythmic beep of monitors echoing the throbbing pain in my skull. My body felt crushed, a devastating ache radiating from my chest. For hours, I existed in a haze of white linens, my memory a fractured mirror reflecting only darkness.
The doctor spoke of post-traumatic amnesia, but as the word ‘accident’ resonated, the floodgates opened. The darkness receded, replaced by the vivid, golden memory of a warm summer night on the coast of Chile.
Felipe and I had been lying in the tall grass, the velvet sky above us shimmering with a million stars. He was telling me a story about the cosmos, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against my skin. I remembered the heat of his hand sliding up my thigh, the electric spark of contact that always left me breathless. We had surrendered to a passionate hunger, our bodies intertwining under the lunar glow, a desperate, beautiful collision of souls.
Now, in the silence of the clinic, I realized that while my mind had forgotten the crash, my heart still beat in time with his. I closed my eyes, clinging to the ghost of his touch, praying that the man from my dreams was still waiting for me in the waking world.