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fore, offered an opinion. "Must have been one hell of a party." |
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"That's probably what happened, all right," the authoritative voice speculated. "The poor bastard probably got blitzed, staggered out on the balcony, leaned over it and the damn thing collapsed on him. Zingo! A three story fall." |
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"Thank heaven for the sand," the woman said. |
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It was time for Charlie to try. He had heard enough. He forced his eyes open. They encircled him, open, questioning and sunburned. |
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"Hey, fella, you all right?" |
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"You took yourself one helluva fall," another said. |
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Charlie raised his hand up and brought it into focus. He tried to move his fingers, flexing, stretching and making his hand into a fist. |
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"How bad you hurt, fella?" |
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Charlie gave the impromptu recovery effort the consummate test; he tried to move his body. To his surprise, everything worked. To his even greater surprise, nothing seemed to be broken. Parts responded. There was a great deal of stiffness, but there was no pain. |
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"Maybe you ought to have a doctor look at you before you get up and try to move around," the woman suggested. |
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"Hell, he's all right," another groused. "You ever see a drunk get hurt when he falls down?" |
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