Silence. No pain. No panic. An open, shattered fracture.

I knock on the trolleybus body, calling for the driver. He appears with the words: "Oh, ah, how did this happen?"

The trolleybus moves away, and I manage to make myself comfortable.

I lay my head on the asphalt, watching the clouds drift by soothingly. No. Stop. Too early to relax. I take off my shirt and apply a tourniquet to my leg, tightening it with all my strength. Holding it firmly, I lie down and wait for the ambulance. I observe the faces around me. Confusion.

Anxiety. No, better to keep watching the clouds.

…Walking away from the hospital, I start noticing how people react to the fact that I no longer have a leg…

Children stare curiously, while adults look away, whisper, and pity me. Expected…

I feel no discomfort.

It has become incredibly easy to look people in the eye, and my tongue

"has been loosened"

"Life gave me a kick in the ass."

An impulse to take action and build myself into someone I, and those around me, can be proud of.

The thought that all of this

"a kick," "an impulse,"

"a push" has been deeply etched into my subconscious. I accepted it and started taking action.

I read everything about rehabilitation, prosthetic care. I studied the stories of people whose lives had brought them similar

"gifts," which only strengthened

my belief in myself, my abilities, and my future.

"This happened, and nothing can change it.

I must accept it and move forward."

A higher power revealed that everything will be fine "and even better than you can imagine."

Well, really, not life but a fairy tale.

And I so badly want to read it till the end.

Only something tells me this fairy tale has no ending.