It was a hard hit, harder than anything I had ever taken.  It couldn’t have been more perfectly placed to cause the most damage.  For a split second, everything was black.  From the time of the strike to hitting the ground, no memories exist.  I never saw it coming until it was too late and not even superhuman speed could have prevented it.  The ground is merciless.  Every inch that touches me pricks with a needle of pain.  Arms and legs ache, but are unresponsive.  The only thing that remains is for the finish, the end.  As the seconds move slowly by, a pinprick of light grows, forcing away the dire gloom of finality.  Racing, the mind uses the new light to find options.  Perhaps an elbow or a knee, the head still works, however painful it would be.  Anything to fight, to continue, to not go out in resigned idleness.