Adonis

He lay on the side of the road. Going in and out of consciousness. In and out of sanity. It was dark and he hit the turn too fast. His Harley’s rear wheel spun out. He was thrown clear. He wore no helmet and may have hit his head. But there was no blood. The nausea was upon him and he turned and retched to his right side, draping the right arm of his leather jacket in his puke. 

It was a mountain road. He lay on a slight hill, the road having been cut through the woods. His feet were lower than his head and he thought he should turn to prevent his blood from flowing away from his head. He knew enough to do that. He slowly rotated, his head now facing the upside-down woods. Would anyone find him? Before he tired of fighting and slipped away. But he was tiring, starting to slip away. In and out of consciousness. 

He heard a movement. He rolled so he could see. In the woods. They were coming for him. There was light. They would get to him in time. At first, the light was too bright but it cooled to a fiery orange. A man. No. A God. An Adonis. Coming for him. Perfectly sculpted. A God.

As He was about to touch him, to take him, he heard shouting. “Over here.” The orange overwhelmed by the flash of red and blue lights. His Adonis vanished.

He felt himself manhandled, an oxygen mask placed over his mouth as he was rolled onto a stretcher. A shot of morphine put into his veins. He was asked questions and he tried to answer but he could not speak. As he was carried to the ambulance, he looked to the woods. But there was nothing, no one. 

He was in the hospital for two weeks. Three surgeries. He’d always walk with a limp, but he was lucky to be walking. His wife and his parents visited every day and they wheeled him out when he was discharged. They arranged for the guest room in the house until he was fully mobile. His dear, sweet wife took care of him. Yet he dreamt of his Adonis. Only of his Adonis. She did not deserve it. He did not deserve her. 

When he was able, he went out alone at nights. Searching for his Adonis. His Adonis would save him.

This was based on a photo prompt from Miranda Kate (@PurpleQueenNL): Finding Clarity Prompt 115