Poor Wayfaring Stranger

GEORGIA Be of love a little more careful than of anything. image by Csutkaa @ flickr.com He was slow to answer her and when he did he sounded as if he hadn't spoken or had anything to drink in days. She waved a hand and shook her head as he apologized for landing on her plants. "No worries." The flowers had been nearing their end, anyway, and she had planned on pulling them up within the next couple of weeks and filling their spot with something else. His unexpected arrival and destruction of the flowers would just move her timeline forward a bit more quickly than she had anticipated, but she was adaptable. Besides, wasn't it more important that he had survived his fall? She watched calmly as he moved his arms and legs. There was no wincing, no sudden inhale, jerky movements, or anything else that would indicate that he was in a considerable amount of pain. His back popped, but that seemed like no more worrisome than a knuckle cracking. "You're lucky." She caught herself saying, then smiled sheepishly. "It was quite a fall, I was expecting broken bones." She explained. Naturally he was confused, she wouldn't have expected anything less, though she did wonder just how hard he had hit his head when he hit the ground. His grimace made her look down and her frown returned when she saw the blood on his palm. Without having to ask him to do so, he lifted his shirt and she could see the clean cut on his side, like he had been sliced with a knife, or something else sharp. There wasn't anything sharp in her garden that he could have landed on, she didn't leave any tools laying out for fear of rust. "You fell into the right garden." Georgia announced as she rose to her feet. "Why don't you come inside? I'll make you some tea and clean that wound for you." She offered and held a hand out to the man to help him to his feet. "."