She is walking through a cornfield

She is walking through an endless cornfield. She has a body, a face, hands, feet. But she does not think of this. She does not remember the shape of her fingers, the color of the hair falling to her shoulders, nor does she know if she ever saw either of them before. Her world is the cornstalks rising to the sky all around her. Sometimes she glances above her and sees the blue sky, so far away it is if it is a dream of the past. Sometime she looks down and sees the feet she forgot she had, unshod. She sees the brown dirt of the ground below her. She breathes and inhales the scent of the earth and the air. But above all she walks. But suddenly, she stops. She feels something she has never felt before touch her feet, her hip. She reaches out her hands and feels something smooth yet rough, nothing like the cornstalks she is constantly pushing out of her way. She continues to run her hands over this object blocking her path. The object is rounded, but flat at the top. It is thin, and somehow suspended in the air. She uses the knees she forgot she had and sits on her haunches to get a closer look (although she cannot see this object) and discovers that there are three thin, round pieces of this same material holding up the disc. What purpose could this possibly serve? She remembers something, something long in the past, or maybe just a dream. She hesitates. Could it possibly be right? She straightens, and then walks over to this object. Slowly, she lowers herself until she is sitting on top of the disc and starts as the pressure on her legs is relieved for the first time in as long as she can remember. She sags a little, her back hunched, elbows resting on her thighs. She hears sounds, sounds that aren’t the rustling of cornstalks and her muted footsteps. Yet they were somehow familiar. Voices? She feels a sense of loss that she can’t explain, a sense of…of someone… of laughter that had disappeared, of love that was no more...

Who am I? she thinks. She swallows, and remembers something. She takes a deep breath. “Hiiii…” It is more of a breath than a word. She swallows again and licks her lips.

“Ahhhhyuh…. Ayuh…. I… I am…I am… I…” she falters. Ages seem to pass. Suddenly, a voice sounds, soft but clear. “I am.”

She gathers her feet underneath her, straightens, and stands for a moment.

She starts walking.