A short story about a man suffering amnesia after getting knocked down by a bus.

 

Bertram the Mystic

 

Her eyes strayed from the glossy pages of Now Magazine only to find the man in the floral robe staring deeply into her soul from across the waiting room.

‘Weirdo,’ she muttered under her breath, and resumed reading.

‘Doctor, Doctor! Simon spoke to me, he’s awake!’ Victoria rushed in.

The doctor spun round abruptly.

‘Yes, I’d see to it immediately, but I’m late for an appointment…at Nando’s.’

‘But Doctor, you need to see this, Simon thinks he’s some kind of medieval warlock.’

The doctor shrugged his shoulders and continued his march.

‘I’ll see to it when I get back,’ he echoed down the corridor.

‘Fear not, your problems lie within the loins of your scalp,’ said the man. ‘The time will come when there is a buy-one-get-one-free invitation on hair potion, and your frizz will vanish.’

The woman peered up from her magazine and glared at him.

‘…What?’

‘Ah, the tension you prevail stems from yesterday’s poorly constructed casserole.’

He sat back down smugly in the knowledge that he had changed this woman’s perspective on life.

The doctors were so utterly convinced he wouldn’t pull through that they agreed to switch the life support off, right after they stopped for lunch.

Victoria had been sitting patiently by Simon’s bedside for the last two weeks since the accident. She remained bleakly hopeful that he would wake up. She only left the room to get food, and even contemplated a catheter.

‘What are you looking at? Moron,’ scowled another woman. She shifted her chair round to focus on the flashing notice board.

‘I’m sensing your inner anguish in relation to the deteriation of your feline accomplice.’

‘Excuse me, sir, but do you have an appointment with the veterinarian?’ asked the petite secretary, who disguised her annoyance by smiling innately – as all secretaries do.

‘Surely I do not need an appointment to meet the Lord Majestic Soothsayer, as he and I are firmly acquainted friends from centuries ago when we attended the Druid Summit.’

‘Yes, OK, well if you could just take a seat, I’ll inform Shirley that you’re here.’

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