The day is quiet.

The day is warm.

Bright sun, though the forest floor is cool. I look at my feet, fascinated by the flotsam I’m crunching through. My boots are rugged. There’s a long knife on my belt. It’s the golden hour.

A few minutes go by and it’s wrong. It pulls at me. Foreboding.

I have no idea. More time passes.

Something is upside down.

Where am I going?

Where am I?

Find a rock to sit to think. Confused.

I don’t know why I’m here or where I am.

I take stock and seem to be allright.

I wear an elaborate pack with food and water and things I don’t immediately recognize or understand. Good news.

I’m left to wonder.

A bag of bricks slowly around my neck as I realize I don’t know my own name.

I don’t know who I am.

Panic floods. It gushes overwhelmingly through every corridor of reason in my head.

I’m as lost as can be.

I do not know my own name.

I don’t know where I am.

Anything I recall happened in the last thirty minutes.

No sign of my identity anywhere. No wallet. Nothing in anything I carry.

I have a gun. It’s heavy in my hand. The weight is reassuring. I have a box of bullets. It too is heavy in a way that comforts.

The knife on my hip has an impressive blade and a hollow handle. Tablets inside.

The sun sets and I have no idea why I’m here or who the fuck I am.

I gather stones and fuel to start a fire. Freeze dried scrambled eggs in a wafer thin skillet.

What is my name?

How can I not know?

I’m doing the best I can not to think about it. I feel familiar in my skin but that’s all. I hope, maybe, to wake up with a better idea of what’s happening. I unroll a sleeping bag filled with down and a thin pad for underneath.

I find some cigarettes. I guess I smoke. I light one. It’s good.

I realize I have no idea about the state of the world. This scares the shit out of me.

My dreams are filled with people I don’t know.

There’s blue kittens in an ancient wooden box, thick with dust and long abandonded cobwebs. Their eyes are gold and their fur is from turquoise to cobalt. I am in awe.

Among the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen or imagined.

Sheer grace of the twilight dance, I’m allowed to witness such beauty firsthand, despite it’s not existing, courtesy of the nocturne aided by a pale, butter fat moon.

Gorgeous Blue Kittens with gems of yellow fire for eyes.

As I sleep.

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