I was in a car accident over a year ago when I was twenty six years old. There's not much detail that I remember from it, except for the fact that it changed me forever. Whether it was for the better, I have yet to figure out. Three months after the accident I woke up in a hospital, throat parched and with a terrible headache. My mom was knitting in a chair beside me and my father was snoring in the chair next to her. Typical dad, he could fall asleep through a tornado siren, but they both shot up from their seats and began screaming out of joy. Nurses ran into the room, the doctor was called and from that moment was beginning a new chapter in my life.

Before the accident, things were going great in my life. I had finished an externship at an independent publishing company and was asked to stay on full time as a Reader. I love reading books. Always have. It was my dream job, the pay wasn't bad and I got to read books for a living. If I liked the books then I would turn them over to the publishers so they could decide if it was worth the investment. Charlotte, who was co-founder of the company squealed with joy and brought out a cake she made earlier that morning for the occasion. Her husband Jackson gave me a hug, welcomed me to the team and then pushed his office door open, yelling across to everyone as if announcing an engagement, "he said yessssss". There was an uproar of cheer from the twelve other people that worked there. This was the reason I accepted to work there full time. I had received an offer from another company, but I couldn't see myself there. They were offering me more money and a pretty competitive benefits package but I liked working at Sparrow Publications. Every employee was treated like family and Jackson and Charlotte's passion for their company was contagious. They were inspiring.

...

It all happened when I was standing on the sidewalk talking to Mandy. Mandy Larson. A beauty that I had been flirting with for all of my externship. She was dating a jerk who would pick her up right after work and if she didn't come outside after five minutes he would march into the building looking for her. No one liked him, we always told her she deserved better. During my party in the office, Mandy pulled me into the copy room. She smelled so good like tangerines. She looked pretty with her long wavy red hair too. She usually tucked part of it behind her right ear, revealing her gorgeous hazel eyes and wing tipped eyeliner. Today her eyes looked more blue since she was wearing a turquoise cardigan. I was so engulfed with how great she looked and smelled that I almost didn't hear her say that she broke up with her boyfriend. It was over two weeks ago but she hadn't said anything to anyone at work because she needed time to heal. She giggled a little and went on to say that her boyfriend was always jealous of me. He suspected that she had a thing for me. It felt surreal. Was Mandy, the girl who I had the biggest crush on, really single and about to confess her feelings for me?

"We'll there you two are!" Charlotte said, interrupting a potential beautiful moment. "We have some gifts we want you to open."

"Charlotte, you really didn't need to buy me anything. Offering me a job here was a dream come true in itself."

"Oh nonsense. I didn't buy you a thing!" She grinned. "The gifts are from a few here in the office."

Charlotte winked at me and lingered in the doorway not realizing that Mandy was spilling her heart out to me before she interrupted. Oh but bless Charlotte's kind heart, if I didn't have a mother she would be close to it. Mandy coyly left the copy room along with her confession of feelings for me. Then Charlotte said,

"You're such a handsome kid. She'll come to her senses one day and then you can sweep her off her feet. Just make sure to invite me to the wedding and name one of your kids after me of course."

Linking her arm in mine we walked into the main office area where all of the cubicles were.

...

So there I was, standing on the sidewalk with Mandy Larson and holding a few new ties, a coffee mug and an all leather messenger bag, which according to a coworker, was to replace the "children's" backpack I always carried. I asked to accompany Mandy home on the transit but she politely declined and added that she would rather have me accompany her to dinner that night. I answered yes and instantly understood what it must feel like for a woman to be asked out by a long time crush. I was grinning from ear to ear, could feel my cheeks become warmer and I wanted to do a celebration dance when she wasn't looking. We agreed on a time and place to meet and when Mandy started to walk off, she stopped to turn her head back and waved goodbye to me as I stood there admiring every part of her. After about a minute or two of standing there like some love struck teenager, I stepped out onto the street and... That's when it happened. A moving van hit me and threw me a few feet.

I remember the ambulance. I remember Charlotte holding my hand crying above me with a bloody hand-print on her face. I remember Jackson sitting beside her with his shirt all bloody. Later I found out that he had cradled me in his arms until the ambulance arrived. I remember being rushed down the hallway on a gurney with nurses and doctors around me. I could hear Charlotte beside me saying everything would be OK and that she called my parents and they would be here soon. I remember being on a table with lights above me and then a mask being placed on my face. And that was it.

What I remembered next was waking up in a hospital bed and my mother knitting beside me while my father snored in his chair. Apparently I had been in and out of a comma for three months after having surgery. Some of my brain had been damaged from the accident and my parents were given a choice: either let the surgeons do what they could for me or let me be part of new testing. The testing was to replace damaged parts of the brain with new pieces of brain from donors. It was a risk since it was experimental but the outcome when tested on lab rats and Apes had proved to be phenomenal. Now the study just needed to be tried on a human. If my parents let the surgeons follow their normal protocols, the chances of me coming out from surgery normal vs mentally disabled were very slim. The probability of me coming out normal from the testing vs mentally disabled were 50/50. My parents thought hard on their decision but needed to give an answer quickly since time wasn't exactly on my side. They opted to have the testing done on me. They felt the chance of me coming out of that nightmare was far greater than a 25% chance. They concluded that if it worked, then my experience could save millions of people who are in similar situations.

Recovery wasn't easy and I had no choice but to move in with my parents. I had trouble reading and holding a pen so I could write. Walking and running, surprisingly were not an issue at all. The first day in physical therapy I stood up from my wheel chair and used a walker to get from one side of the room to another. The therapist was very impressed by how easy it was for me. She explained that usually the first few days of walking are hard for people who have come out of comas. By the end of the week, I didn't need a walker and could keep a steady pace on the treadmill. After three weeks I was up to jogging on the treadmill and then after five weeks I may as well have been an Olympic sprinter! However my speech, reading and writing were not as advanced yet. It frustrated me since I loved to read so much. I worried that I might not be able to go back to working at Sparrow Publications but Jackson assured me that when I was we'll enough, I still had my place in their company.

Weeks into my recovery, I was walking by a park and it seemed very familiar to me, although I am positive that I had never been there before. Then a few days later I had a craving for a sausage bagel from a coffee shop I had never been to. However the smell of the coffee, the feel of the hardwood floor beneath my feet as I walked up to the register to place my order, it was as if I knew every inch of the place. My hearing and sense of smell seemed better than before too. Or at least what I can remember my senses being like before the accident. I spoke about these incidents with my counselor Dr. Fritz. He handed me a spiral notebook and asked me to write down these memories I was having. He added that it would help me to write them down as soon as I had them, that way the memory was fresh in my mind and then to read them aloud at the end of the day. At the end of the week I would bring my journal into our sessions and we would talk about them.

After a couple of weeks, he was positive that these were just lost memories from before the accident but then at the end of the month, with my insistence, he started to entertain the idea that maybe these were not my memories. Maybe these were the memories of my donor.

"It's a very strange theory Jonah but I'm going to indulge it. I want you to continue to write in your journal and... and I can't believe I'm saying this but, I think you should really explore these memories. That is, when it's safe to do so. Just please don't return to me at the end of the week telling me you robbed a bank as part of your exploration, cause I won't be able to help you out with the law." Dr. Fritz searched through his desk, "take this with you. I'd like for you to keep a recording of your reading at the end of the night. That way I can play them back and really study these memories."

Usually when I dreamed it was of me just running but that night I had a good dream. I was laying down and gazing at the face of a blond woman, perhaps mid twenties, green eyes, bright smile and she stroked my head while cooing sweet nothings. I couldn't remember what she was saying exactly but I do remember that she sat up and said "I love you Max". She stared at me with such affection in her eyes. An affection I've never felt before other than from my parents. Then she held me close and I watched her fall asleep while taking in the sweet smell of her freshly washed hair. That morning I woke up feeling happy for the first time in months. The dream felt real, as if I had experienced it before. I could even feel the softness of the bed we were laying on and the soft fleece of the blanket. One thing was certain, there was a part of me that ached to see the mystery woman's face again.

...

Standing in the copy room of Sparrow Publications I stared blankly at the machine as the light from the copier moved from the left to the right and then spit out paper. I had been a fool to think that returning to work would be easy. It wasn't the job part. Reading books was actually helping me improve my reading pace, as well as recover most of the vocabulary I lost after being in a coma. However due to my being in recovery, Jackson thought it would be best to have me do more office work until my reading was closer to where it was before the accident. The part that was hard was returning to work and seeing Mandy every day. During the months that I was in the hospital, she met a guy and they had been dating off and on but recently decided to become exclusive. From what I was told by others in the office was that her beau had a habit of letting his eyes wander and that Mandy pretended to not notice it but everyone could tell that it bothered her. I guess she just knew how to pick real winners.

Mandy entered the copy room and tried to make small talk as I stared at the copy machine light move back and forth. For some reason I felt angry and annoyed by her small talk. I wanted to be left alone with my thoughts of the dream I had. The soft feel of the blankets, the sweet smell of her hair, watching her drift off to sleep...

"Jonah, I feel that I need to tell you that I'm sorry about the accident. Most of all, I'm sorry that we never got to go out to dinner."

I was officially snapped out of my trance, "Its OK Mandy. Maybe it was life trying to tell me that certain things just weren't meant to be".

Mandy looked hurt and I immediately regretted what I said.

"I really liked you Jonah. I had such a huge crush on you and I admired your passion for discovering authors that needed a chance to be published. I was devastated when I was called about your accident. I visited you in the hospital. I tried to go once a week. It was really hard to see you that way. One time you woke up while I was there and you stared directly at me but you didn't remember me. You even called me a different name and asked if I had died my hair? After that I couldn't bring myself to see you in such a condition."

I noticed she was fidgeting with the belt around her waist as she continued.

"I didn't want to move on. Honestly I didn't. But you were in a coma and the doctors were not sure when you would completely wake up. I needed comfort. I needed someone to be there for me. Your accident hit me really hard. I met Ray through one of my girlfriends and he was so kind and charming and I got caught up in the emotion of it all."

I tuned out Mandy as I meditated on what she said earlier about me not recognizing her. Interupting her I asked, "Mandy, you said that when you visited me that I called you by a different name. What did I call you?"

"Um.. um, I think you called me Iris."

"Iris? And your hair. Did I mention anything else about your hair?"

"Well..." she paused to think, "you said that you always liked my blond hair but that you thought the red looked nice."

And there it was! I had a name for the mystery woman I saw in my dream. I quickly grabbed the papers from the copy machine and before exiting the copy room I kissed Mandy on the cheek and said "Thank you!"

...

I was eager to talk to Dr. Fritz about my latest discovery and even though it was a Wednesday, Friday seemed so far away and I couldn't wait to speak with him. Plus I had done a little bit of McGuyver work after everyone left the office. I called the hospital for any records on friends or family of my brain donor. I explained my situation and that I just wanted to be able to thank whoever was responsible for giving me the gift of a second chance at life. Which was partly true. However they told me that due to patient privacy/confidentiality laws, there was no way they could give me any information. Then I googled, "brain donors, Iris" but still nothing came up or nothing relevent at least. Just a few links to popular social networking sites with profiles of various women but none of them looked like Iris.

The next morning I called in sick to work. Charlotte was concerned and offered to come by the apartment to bring me some food but I told her that my mother stayed home from work to take care of me. Which was a lie. My mother was actually the sick one and there was no way she was getting out of bed to make me a sandwich, even if I begged. Thankfully my father was retired and never went anywhere so, when I set out to the city to see if any new memories would spark, I didn't feel guilty to leave my mother at home sick in bed.

I walked down the steps from our brick apartment and set out for some adventure. I let my brain guide me. I walked passed the park that I had discovered and the coffee shop with the sausage bagels. I tried to keep walking but the craving for a bagel made me turn around and practifally run up to the counter to order one. Biting into the warm soft bagel, with the sausage cooked into the dough and cream cheese practically soaking into it, I could feel my toes curl. I stood there marching in place while making moaning sounds as I absorbed the taste, smell and deliciousness. As I opened my eyes there were two women staring at me and laughing to themselves. The barista behind the counter asked if I was ok and I realized that I must have looked like such a moron with the little production I had just put on. Embarrassed I left the coffee shop. A few blocks down I saw a clothing store. The young girls working inside looked familiar and I had a quick flash of a memory. I remembered seeing these young girls, I remember them saying,

"Hey Maximus, it's so good to see you. Its been a while."

I wanted to stop in and ask them if they knew an Iris but I chickened out. I didn't want to sound like a crazy stalker so I kept walking. A couple of doors down, there was an art gallery. In the window was a picture of a Bull Terrier. He reminded me of Spudz McKenzie. The more I stared at the picture the more I realized that I had seen this picture before. I remembered Iris painting this picture. I remembered her with paint on her face and clothes. I remembered going over to her, hugging her and her kissing me on the face and telling me how much she loved me. The memory made me feel warm all over and I couldn't help but smile. She felt so real this time. This time it wasn't a dream but an actual memory and it felt like it wasn't too long ago that it happened.

I was so eager to go out and explore that I had forgotten my journal at home. I needed to write these memories down. I really wanted to go into the gallery and ask about the painting but I needed to head home before the details excaped my mind. On the way home I went over every detail of the memories that had come up. Stepping into the apartment felt like a sanctuary as I rushed to my room, flopped down on my bed and delved into writing what I could remember from the events of the day.

The next day I unloaded what I had written in my journal as if it were vomit. It came out so rushed and full of excitement. Dr. Fritz had to tell me to slow down and repeat a few of the details. Once I was finished I gulped down a bottle of water and then panted as Dr. Fritz reviewed my writing.

"Well what do you think? Her name is Iris and yesterday I remembered her clearer than ever!"

"Hmm" Dr. Fritz rubbed his chin and stared at my journal. "This is really good Jonah. Now what I think you need to do next is speak to the people who have had contact with this 'Iris' and face this head-on. That way your curiosity is done and you can start putting your accident behind you. And then really move on with your life"

Move on with my life? That was something I wasn't sure if I understood how to do since my accident. Before everything happened my life seemed to be on track. I was offered my dream job and the girl I had feelings for was finally available and had mutual feelings for me. But then of course my accident happened and ever since then I've had to take baby steps with everything I do other than walking and running. I wasn't sure I knew how to move on with my life. I think I was scared to move on. I wanted my old life back. However Dr. Fritz was right. If I wanted to move forward in my life I had to find out for my own sanity who Iris was and then maybe she could tell me about my brain donor.

...

Standing in front of the clothing store on late Saturday morning, I almost talked myself out of walking in. I thought this whole idea was crazy. I thought I should just let it go and be thankful that I am alive and well, instead of being a vegetable or mentally disabled. I felt my feet stepping into the store, a chime above me stirred and I heard two familiar voices say "welcome to Chic" and "be right with you". One of the girls to come up to me first was wearing a maxi dress and had her hair in a messy ballerina bun. I remembered her name. It was Kaylah and the other girl's name was Jane. She was taller in my memory but in person she came up to my shoulder.

"Hi, I'm looking for a dress to buy for my girlfriend. I want to pick her up from work and take her out to dinner but I want to surprise her with a new dress that way she doesn't have to worry about getting dolled up." The lie was a good one and I could see Kaylah melt as I told her. It was as if it was the sweetest thing she had ever heard.

"Well, you certainly have come to the right place. Hey Jane can you come out and help me with this gentleman." Jane emerged from the backroom holding a half eaten sandwich in her hand. She was also shorter than what I remembered... "When you're finished with that I'm going to need your input on something sexy for his girlfriend"

I started to feel overwhelmed and started to think maybe I should have just been honest from the get-go as they asked me various questions that I was unsure on how to answer. They asked, does your girlfriend like short dresses? Long dresses? Is she pear shaped, hour glass, top heavy? Does she like showing skin or does she prefer being modest? Does she like lace, silk, fluff, sparkle...? I tried to answer their questions according to what I thought Iris would like but the truth was that in my memories I never really saw her entire body. I finally broke down.

"Hold on I need to confess something ladies." I said with my hands held up as if surrendering. Taking a deep breath I proceeded, "I promise I'm not a creep. The truth is that I don't have a girlfriend that I need to buy a dress for. I came in here because I'm looking for a girl. She's blond and I've seen her shopping in here from time to time. The only thing I know about her is that her name is Iris. I'm just too shy to actually go up to her and say hi but today I gathered up the courage and hoped that I would bump into her. I figured if I had the chance to finally be face to face with her, then maybe I could ask her out for some coffee and get to know her."

There was a long awkward silence and I started to think that maybe I should have just stuck to my, "buying a dress for girlfriend" story.

Jane with a hand on her hip studied me carefully and then spoke up, "You seem harmless and nice enough. Iris comes in here a few times a week."

"Shhh!" Kaylah said with a finger to her mouth and gave Jane a glare. Perhaps a way of telling her not to trust me.

"Oh hush!" Jane replied back. "She works in the gallery next door."

"I can't believe you! I'm walking away." Kaylah through her hands up and trotted off.

Jane rolled her eyes and continued."I'm not sure if she's there today but its worth a try."

Thanking Jane, I practically ran out of the store but once I was in front of the gallery I nonchalauntly walked in. Looking around I tried to ease my heavy breathing and wiped sweat from my face. It seemed like no one was there until I heard a thumping noise. In the corner was a man who looked like he was in his fifties, wearing a worn out cowboy hat and a perfectly trimmed mustache that curled up at the edges. He seemed familiar but I wasnt sure why or from where. He sat in front of a large canvas as he violently stroked and slapped it with a brush. Startled, he looked up at me and asked what I needed.

"Um.. ah.. I'm looking for the artist who painted the Bull Terrier in the window."

"That would be Iris Ellington. What do you need her for?"

"I really love the painting and I would like to know if she would paint a portrait of my dog and find out how much she charges."

"Well, Iris isn't here today. It's her day off. She'll be back on Monday morning and should be here till the gallery closes. However we close at 2:00 PM on Mondays so don't expect to find anyone here after that!"

Leaving the gallery I felt a bit defeated. I thought for sure that today was the day. On the way home I sulked and felt sorry for myself but then I realized, today had not been a waste. I now know Iris's full name and I know where she works and around what time she'll be there. All is not lost. Running up the stairs to my parents apartment and bursting through the door, I rushed to my room, floped on my bed and started writing in my journal. The words on the pages poured out like fluid as my hand moved quicker than its ever moved since my accident. Once I was done, I hugged my journal and fell into a delicious sleep.

I dreamed of Iris that night and it felt even more real than before. We were at the park. Our park. Sitting on a blanket in the grass. Iris's hair looked golden in the sunlight and her shoulders were lightly tanned from the warm rays. She sat cross legged with green colored skinny jeans, a loose fitting white tank top, a necklace that hung by her naval and black and white converse shoes. She had packed Philly Cheese Steak sandwiches and tore off pieces of steak to feed to me. It tasted marvellous. Even in the dream I could taste the rich flavors of the steak and the pepper jack cheese melting into it. Then she took another piece of steak, held it close to my mouth, then quickly pulled it away and popped the piece in her mouth. She grabbed another piece of steak and fooled me again but this time I tackled her and kissed her face all over. She laughed and laughed, so I kissed her some more and it made her laugh even harder. After lunch we played with a frisbee but once that became boring we cuddled on the blanket and took a nap in the warmth of the sunny aftertoon.

...

Monday morning couldn't be going by any slower. Every time I checked the clock it seemed like only thirty minutes had gone by. My lunch break was at 11:30 and I couldn't wait to rush over to the gallery so I could finally meet Iris. Across the cubicles I could see Mandy. She was leaning back in her chair, twirling a chunk of that shiney gorgeous red hair and speaking on the phone. She looked happy and a part of me longed for her. Longed to be that person who was making her laugh on the telephone. To be her boyfriend instead of that loser she's dating now. What would my life be like right now if the accident never happened? Would Mandy and I be together? Or maybe she and I wouldn't have been compatible and would have seen that after a few dates. After all, I'm not like the guys she goes for. Her last boyfriend was a jerk, controlling, and she financially supported him most of the time. This new guy, from what I heard is also a jerk. I'm nothing like those guys.

Mandy looked in my direction and I quickly snapped out of my daydream. Thankfully it was now 11:25 so I started to gather my belongings and make my way towards the exit. Hopefully no one would stop me to try and chit chat but of course I thought too soon. Halfway to the exit, Jackson stopped me.

"Hey bud, feel like grabbing some chow at that old Italian place on the corner? I'm meeting Charlotte there."

"Oh, I'd really love to Jax but I'm meeting someone and really need to get there as soon as I can."

"Meeting someone huh? Wait till I tell Charlotte. She'll be thrilled! So who's the lucky lady?"

I tried not to stutter. "Her name is Iris. We're meeting for coffee but I really need to be going Jackson. I don't want to keep her waiting. She only gets a thirty minute lunch."

I hated lying to Jackson but I truly was in a hurry and even if I tried to explain things to him, he would probably think that I need to speak to my doctors and be examined.

...

My heart beat fast as I walked passed the clothing store and headed for the gallery. Jane caught a glimpse of me, she gave me a thumbs up, a wink and smiled. Standing outside of the gallery I straightened the collar of my grey courduroy blazer and ran my hands down the buttons of my shirt to smooth them out. This was it. I needed to walk in and feed my curiosity so I could move on with my life just like Dr. Fritz said. But most of all, I needed to do this because there was a whole part of me that by some force was being drawn to Iris. Memories that were forcing me to find this mystery woman. Taking a deep breath, I walked in.

Still feeling a great thunder in my chest, I looked around anxiously. I could feel sweat absorbing into the armpits of my shirt and bead up on my forehead. Nervously I wiped the sweat away with my palm when I saw the back of her head. There she was. She stood behind a glass counter that enclosed smaller paintings. Perhaps paintings that were rare and very expensive. I could hear her speaking on the phone. She was speaking in what sounded like French and even in a foreign language her voice sounded exactly how I heard it in my memories of her. I wanted to quietly observe her and take in this moment. It didn't feel real so I bit my lip to see if I could feel the pain and then I would know if I was conscious or not. Sure enough I was surprised with the strength of the bite.

She ran her hand through her blond hair which was just passed her shoulders and I could hear the various thin bracelets on her wrist clang together. With impressive ease she gathered her hair into a high ponytail and made a bun out of it. All the while balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder.

She was wearing a yellow pencil skirt with a loose gauzy white blouse clumsily tucked in. The wrist and collar were trimmed in black which matched her pointy black high heels. She definitely loved bright colors. I couldn't help but grin at the sight of her. Based on my memories of her, Iris was not the kind of girl who liked to dress up so to see her in a skirt and in heels was quite entertaining.

At that moment I felt a sneeze coming on. I tried to fight it so as to not give myself away but it was too late. The urge to sneeze was passed the point of no return. The itchiness rose through my nostrils and the explosive "achoo" came through my mouth like a volcanic eruption. In a split second Iris's head turned in my direction and I was discovered. You could see the surprise in her eyes as she realized she was not alone in the gallery and my face felt feverish as I stared back at her. She looked even more beautiful right here in front of me than from what I remembered. She quickly finished her conversation on the phone and then walked up to me. With the sound of my own heart drumming in my ears, her voice sounded so far away. I watched her red lips move and I could see that she was saying,

"I'm so sorry I didn't see you sooner. What may I help you with sir."

"I spoke with a man last Friday about the painting in the window of the Bull Terrier. He told me that you painted it. You are Iris right?"

"Oh yes, you spoke with my father and yes I am Iris. I apologize if my father was rude to you. He hates being interrupted while he's in a groove with his paintings. However, he should realize that if he's painting during business hours that he WILL have to help customers that come in. So, what did you want to know about the painting?"

"We'll first I'd like to compliment you on how lifelike it is. It really caught my attention while walking down the street. What's the story behind it?"

"Well to start, my father has always told me that some of the best art comes from great emotion. He taught me to channel anger, sadness, love, hate etc into my paintings. Unfortunately that particular piece is the result of me losing my dog. I started the painting while he was alive and then became uninspried but after he passed away... I had to finish it."

"Oh, I'm really sorry to hear that. Seems like he must have been an amazing companion. Why did he pass away, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Not at all. He caught an infection when he was bit by another dog in the park. Bull Terriers look tough but in reality they are like little puppies even as adults. My poor baby didn't stand a chance when he was attacked by a stray German Shepherd. Me and an onlooker helped pull the stray off of him but he was bit pretty bad. The Vet prescribed him antibiotics but a few days later he was running a fever and couldn't keep his food down. I took him to the Vet and." At this point Iris was starting to tear up, "there was nothing else that could be done to save him. The infection was strong and had spread into his blood stream. He passed away right there in the Vets office. He was 11 years old and if he had been younger his body may have been able to fight the infection. Or at least that's what the Vet told me".

Wiping tears from her eyes she added that he was a gift to her when she was 14 years old and since his death she didn't have the heart to adopt another dog.

"Sir, your lip is bleeding." Iris pointed.

"Oh, uh, um, I must have bit it when I sneezed." I licked my lip and sure enough I could taste blood.

Chuckling Iris reached for some tissue on the glass counter, "well it was a very powerful sneeze." Taking it upon herself she dabbed at the blood on my lip. Then she paused and looked at my eyes, "have we met before? There's something about you that seems very familiar."

"It's possible. I go into that coffee shop over there a lot. Maybe we've seen each other there?"

"I love that place! I go there pretty much every morning."

"Aren't their sausage bagels the best?" I said.

Puzzled, Iris looked at me, "how do you know about those? Francis used to make those for Max. As far as I know its part of a secret menu that only a few people know about."

Trying to change the subject I asked "You might have mentioned this already but who's Max. A boyfriend?"

"No..." I could sense Iris was starting to feel uncomfortable, "I've heard better lines than that but if you must know, I don't have a boyfriend. Maximus was my dog."

The air in the gallery suddenly felt tight. I tugged at my collar "I'm sorry did you say your dog's name was Max?"

"Yes?" Iris responded still sounding uncomfortable. "Are you ok sir, you don't look well."

The pounding in my chest returned and it sounded very loud. I wanted to cover my ears and close my eyes. Then I remembered. I remembered rolling on the grass while hearing snarles from the dog that was attacking me. I could feel his teeth sink into my back, my neck and my ear. I remembered Iris crying as she stroked my head while I layed on a table in the Vets office. I remembered hearing Dr. Lang tell Iris, "it doesn't look good" as she pointed to lab tests. I remember licking Iris's hands as she tried to comfort me with gentle strokes. I remembered the lullaby she sang,

"you are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when sky's are grey, you'll never kn..."

And that was it.

Feeling a cold sweat come over me and the light start to fade I rushed outside. The oatmeal I had for breakfast exploded from my mouth and made a healthy splat sound on the sidewalk. Iris's pointy black heels were right at my side and when I looked up, her hand was extended with a huge wad of tissues in her her palm. I grabbed the wad and wiped my mouth while still hunched over. I carefully stood up and Iris grabbed the used tissues from my hand. "Would you like some water?"

"Yes please."

Iris nodded her head, gesturing for me to come back into the gallery. I followed her inside and surprisingly the air didn't feel so tight anymore. She disappeared into the back. I could hear the faucet running and then she returned with a glass of water and a slice of lemon inside it.

"The lemon should help with your nausea." She said. "I'm afraid to know why but... mind telling me what that was all about?"

Here it was. I had been waiting to find out who my donor was and now that I knew, I wished I had not been so curious. Now I had to make a choice. Do I tell Iris the truth or do I keep it to myself and put it all behind me?

"Iris, if I told you something about myself, will you try your best to believe me no matter how far fetched it sounds?"

Iris nodded yes slowly and I couldn't help but feel that somehow she would understand. So I began to explain,

"A little over a year ago I was in an accident..."