Mini-story: Return

One hundred and four seconds. Not a long time. Or is it? It’s less than two minutes, but it could be an eternity under the right circumstances. Press your hand to a hot stove for a minute, and it’ll seem like an hour, as Einstein noted. But one hundred and four seconds is only the blink of an eye within a human lifetime. It was a cyclist who found me, so I’m told. It wasn’t like in the news, where a passerby rescues someone and then they have a tearful meeting later on. My passerby made the appropriate report to the police after the ambulance had taken me away, then went on with his life. I never met him. But he was there at the right time, and I’m grateful for that. I’d been out for a run, and I remember feeling that it was more difficult than usual. It was a cold morning and it’s been a long time since I was a young man, so I didn’t think my struggle was unusual. The upwards incline was gentle enough, but I certainly felt it. And then I also felt the sudden pinching, pressing,…