By Sofia Perez
[Published by Literary Hub, November 2, 2017]
This story began on April 15th, 2016. The exact date is marked forever in my memory because it was the answer to one of the many questions the paramedics fired at me that night.
“Where do you live?” “What’s your birthday?” “Who’s the current president?” “What day is it?” When I realized it was tax day, I made a mental note so I’d be able to give the correct response again in the ER, which is where they were taking me. It was my feeble way of proving to myself that I was going to be okay.
I had just had dinner at a Korean restaurant with my friend Clara, and it was a mild spring night, so I decided to walk the 25 blocks back to my apartment. After saying goodnight to her, I called my mother from my cellphone, and we began to chat as I turned down a dimly lit street in Manhattan’s Flatiron district.
Up ahead, I noticed a large crowd…