Someone Else

"I do remember, now. Bits of it. Fragments of the last few days, shrouded in a thick, dark, fog. The smell. The smell was the first thing that hit me. Ether. Alcohol. Detergent. And the pervasive, implacable stench of burning. Then, the stings of light, hustling between my eyelids like hundreds of thrusting daggers. They say that the body is mainly water. Mine was a desert. Ground zero. On hold. Awaiting contractors. They messed me up. The killed what was left. I was Alan; they called me John. That's why everything went wrong."