Alone again, naturally

The gun – he had a gun.

Why a gun? I don’t know why he had a gun. I was only supposed to have a gun.

The shot, the shot, I felt the shot, I heard the shot.

I was shot.

Where am I now? Why am I so heavy? What’s wrong with my arms? My hands? My toes? My eyes?

What’s that sound? Is that a sound?

The cloth – the cloth upon me – I can’t take it off me.

Why can’t I …