Joshua Davis, Peak to Peak.   He woke up and sat on the corner of the bed. "When did this belly get so big?" he thought out loud. He started to stand up and couldn't. He ended up having to roll forward and back, (like a damn weeble wobble) until he was finally on his feet.

He started looking for his clothes, the standard outfit, blue jeans, snake skin boots with the sterling silver tips, black t-shirt with a pocket full of smokes and “the vest," covered with the patches he earned. He couldn't find any of those, just khaki shorts and Hawaiian shirts.

Finally, in a box in the way back closet, it was there, all of it, including the Zippo he had bought with his Marlboro miles. He wondered why it was tucked away, he had just worn it yesterday.

It was a little more snug than he remembered."Where's that whiskey?" he mumbled and walked to the kitchen. "Who's house is this? No whiskey, only pictures of someone's kids and grandkids, a travesty,” he thought.

He started to walk outside and grab his bike and he caught his reflection in the window. He reached for a gun that was no longer there and then he recognized something in the eyes. Something sharp, something astute and aware. He realized this old man was him and that's when it all came back.

The hospital, the loss of mind, the dementia, he remembered they called it. "Oh dear lord, is she still here ?" He ran to the bedroom and sure enough his "little lady" was there, asleep and wearing that night gown that always made him feel safe.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been "out of it" but he suddenly felt a pain for these days lost that he had never known. He took a deep breathe and kissed her on the forehead. Walked to the garage to get on his bike and drive it head on into traffic with a Natty Light in one hand and a fuck you look on his face. Wouldn’t you know it? She kept his bike, "That damn woman," he thought. He climbed on, "tighten up the ol gloves" he thought.

Smiled really big and rolled out the driveway.

(It's Your Turn is a completely reader written issue. Originally published August 16, 2018, in The Mountain-Ear.)