I had been pouring over my bills for a few hours now and getting more depressed with each one. There was no way I could pay everything I owed this week. I needed a break, and even though it was about 10:30 PM I decided to go out for a walk and try to clear my head. A slightly cool night, the air felt good even wearing shorts and a tee shirt, and I kinda got lost in the semi quiet of the partially deserted streets. I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going, I just walked. Half the time I didn't even take notice if I was on the sidewalk or crossing a street.
Next thing I knew, this car was right in front of me. I didn't have time to get out of the way and it clipped me on my one leg. I went down and when I looked up the car had stopped and the driver was asking me if I was OK. I wasn't quite sure, guess I was a little in shock. He asked if I wanted him to take me to the hospital. I said no, and started to get up. My leg hurt but I could stand. I looked down and there was a bit of blood running down from my knee. He asked if he could take me home. I thanked him but said no, I wasn't ready to go back to my problems yet. I started to walk away, or should I say limp. He came up behind me and said he lived about a block away and would feel better if I let him take me to his place to at least clean up my knee. I wouldn't normally do that but he seemed really concerned and the accident wasn't his fault, I was the one not paying attention, so I agreed.
He helped me into his car and drove to his house. Once inside he told me to sit on the sofa and he'd get something to clean my knee up with. I glanced around the room, it was simple and uncluttered, kinda cozy, I guess a typical man's place. He came back in and started working on my knee. He was very gentle, and I finally got a good look at him.