That won't be necessary. I'm young and fit; my body can easily handle such a small fall. "Thank you for your prompt help." I shake his hand. "Jasmin, would you...?"
"But of course." She nods kindly. And even though I haven't explicitly stated what I'm asking her to do, she gets to work. "I'll escort you to the exit." With a polite gesture, she points at the door, and the two of them disappear behind it shortly after.
Tired, I lean my head against the leather support of the armchair and close my eyes. Tomorrow, I'll surely feel better and be able to continue my work.
***
The following morning starts with a headache. Every ray of light is torture, and every sound is agony. Still, I peel my stiff limbs out of bed and put on a pair of jogging pants. My reflection in the mirror is as gray as I feel. A thick white bandage adorns my temple.
Can I work today? Yes. Because I have to.
Besides, I have no choice but to inform Tamika about my accident. I send her a short message. That should be enough. With sunglasses on my nose and foam earplugs in my ears, I drag myself to the kitchen, where Jasmin is evidently preparing breakfast for a large family. It smells of fried bacon and pancakes. As soon as I enter the room, she abandons all her work and comes over to me.
She looks me up and down, and her hand touches my arm comfortingly. Then her lips move, and she says something.
I apologize, pointing at the earplugs in my ears and then to my head. She turns around to get the medication. She seems to be talking to me while filling a glass with water, which makes me smile. She presses her pale lips together for a moment and looks at the medication packs. However, she appears convinced as she hands me the medicine shortly after.
I don't care. As long as my head pain disappears.
I swallow everything she has prepared for me, and indeed, after thirty minutes and a cup of coffee, I feel considerably better, so I dare to remove the earplugs.
"Good morning again," Jasmin whispers. "Are you ready for a hearty breakfast to regain your strength?" She sounds like my mother used to when I was sick. Strangely enough, it does me a little good.
"Thankyou very much, but I'm really not hungry," I say, shrugging. That's not the truth. Rather, the medication has cleared my head, and I want to take advantage of it. "Maybe later."
She looks disappointed. "At least a smoothie?"
I can take that with me. "Sure."
With the grass-green drink in hand, I step up to the piano a little later. For Jasmin's sake, I take a sip as I delve into my notes from yesterday.
I can't remember where I left off.
No matter how hard I try, I can't recall it. It must be related to the accident. I was searching for something on the bookshelf, but what was it?
The more I think about it, the more muffled my head feels. I’ll start with playing what I've already written down on the sheet music. Maybe I'll find the connection that way.
I place my hands on the keyboard and gather myself. I love this moment when everything inside me becomes quiet. There's only the piano and me. Very gently, I play the first notes. They should sound as delicate as possible.
Yes, that's right. The melody carries me away, approaching a tremolo. A brief delay. Now. My fingers begin the rapid alternation between the notes.
And they fail.
They can't keep the rhythm and don't do what I ask of them.
I try again. And fail once more.
Suddenly, I feel something I've never felt before. Instinctively, I glance down.
Indeed. My right hand is trembling, and my thumb feels numb. I quickly grasp it with my left hand,massaging the palm and flexing each finger. As soon as I let go, the trembling returns.
What's happening here?
Panic grips me. It slowly crawls up my spine, clings to my shoulders, and tightens around my chest. Hot chills send cold sweat trickling down my forehead.
My hands are all I have. If they stop working, then...
No. I don't want to think like that. My brain was injured yesterday, and surely there's just a minor glitch up there that needs some rest to fix. Nothing that a few days of rest couldn't heal, just like the doctor said. Or is it a side effect of the medication? Delayed responsiveness is not uncommon when taking painkillers.
