How I Almost Died

The following doodle, whatever it might be worth, is not bad for having been done by a potentially dead person. Yours Sincerely was robbed a few weeks ago, and now feels the post-trauma settling nicely. Refusing to give up his wallet, and defending himself too little and too late, he was thus beaten into near-unconsciousness (with faint memories of having his jacket pulled of from him in the March cold by it, who had asked for a cigarette and then started beating quite surprisingly. The teeth still have to be corrected).

How nice.

As for the police, who questioned the bleeding face a few hours afterwards, they were mostly interested in the race of the offender and seemed mildly disappointed that it (I refuse to call it a person) wasn't entirely African or so, and put the investigation down sooner than you can say Hey Presto. So it might be interesting to a few to know that, thanks to the priorities of Local Law Enforcement, this lump without a soul is still scampering freely about in West Stockholm, maiming and killing locals at will.

Now, Here's the doodle. Rabbit, or so. How one might feel.

A closer look.

An earlier attempt at dealing with the subject will likely get scrapped. I got this far but didn't feel like it. I got the kind advice by a friend to draw "what lives in your hand" -- very poetical, and I received it with gratitude -- but didn't feel things living in my hand really. I remember there was a lot of blood.