Hurt
He heard their voices first. They broke his reverie, and he sat up, looking at his watch. They emerged from the trees by the path. As he made to stand up, the first blow came.
These senseless seconds, unfolding in ease and simplicity.
The kick to the face sent him down, his blood spattering across the leaves of a tree.
They all laughed as he lay in the grass, spitting out teeth. They dragged him up, unsteady on his feet, hands raised in supplication.