The day was bright and piercing
through his eyes when Ikram woke up. He snapped from the creaking bed and
looked around. He looked to his hands, gave them a flex and rubbed his face,
letting out a breath of relieved. He slipped out of the bed and realized that
he was still in his rider jacket. He scanned the room. It was fairly large but
mostly empty, with only the bed and a dressing table--where his helmet
sat--making up the whole of the room. He pluck his helmet and went for the
door.
"You've passed out
yesterday, so we placed you in the guest room" said the girl from the
restaurant.
Ikram rubbed his forehead.
Yesterday. He gave it a shook and took a breath. He could not remember them.
"Can I see the owner again?" he said.
The girl wrote something on the
rectangular piece of paper in her hand and placed it on the counter before
gesturing for Ikram to follow her back into the kitchen.
The door to the kitchen creaked
open and they were welcomed with the sight of cooks in their tall white hats
looking at a giant of a man in front of them as he gave them their morning pep
talk. The girl points Ikram to a plastic chair near a door not far from where
the cooks were standing and told him to wait there, as the owner will tend to
him once he is done with his talk. She gave Ikram a slight bow and left him on
his own.
"What do you want, kid?"
said the owner. He pulled a blue plastic chair, the same as yesterday's--which
only today Ikram realized was actually enforced with metal bars underneath--and
sat on it.
Ikram looked to him with a
slightly confused face. "What did you do to me yesterday?"
The owner crosses his arm and
looked down at him. "What do you mean?"
Ikram looked to him, glaring.
"You did something to me and now I can't remember what happened yesterday.
So I'm asking you what did you do to me yesterday?"
