Continuing on my path of shorter-short stories, I’ve begun my newest with an estimated word count of 3000 words. I’ve written the first 500 words and I’m wondering if it’s a different story than I had wanted to tell. Hard to say. Guess I’ll finish it and see where it goes. Below are the first 200 words (unedited).

He wakened with no face. There was no pain or wild hysteria. Only the dull throb of unanswered questions and a low-grade headache. Flickering fluorescent lights swayed from chains. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and go back to sleep. Except with no eyelids, there was no returning to dreamland.

Besides, the questions were becoming more insistent, percolating through his consciousness. They thirsted and wouldn’t be sated unless he did something about them. His hands explored the fleshy ridges of his face, tracing where there should’ve been lips, touching the open cavern of a missing nose, feathering along the ridge of the skin around his neck where his face had been expertly removed. Did he ever have a face? He couldn’t’ remember what he looked like. Couldn’t remember his name, his background, or his history.

His smelt the heavy odor of human sweat, rotting citrus, and stale beer. The rumble of a train shook the flat, dishes jumping, faded floral pictures vibrating on walls. None of this looked familiar.