Malik
Low sperm count. Something about that phrase was niggling my mind. A decision I made or something. It’s right there at the edge. I just can’t see it.
A knock on the door grabbed my attention. Dr. Ball walked in.
“Hey, Malik, how are you feeling?”
“Better than I did this morning. The pain in my head is gone. I can move better. The pain in my ribs isn’t as bad as it was. My arm is throbbing, though.”
“It will for a while. How’s the memory? Has anything come through?”
“Yeah, something did. And something is also trying to come through, but I can’t grasp it. The only thing I clearly remember before the accident is being told I have a low sperm count.”
“Dr. Ball blinked. “That’s specific. Nothing else?”
“No. I just remember feeling sad and frustrated and maybe guilty?”
“Hmmm. Wha
