Dead Road

There was no expression on his face as he climbed up from the mud. He doesn't remember who he is. I only remember one number - seventy-three. The adoptive parents' faces disappeared first. The traveler took the first step, and his facial features turned into a blank in his memory. In the end even "pain" became blurry. The knife pierced the back of his hand and blood was flowing. He looked down and saw that "ah" was stuck in his throat and couldn't come out. He's still walking. Not because I want to go anywhere. He counted to seventy-three. When you stop, count to seventy-four.