by Amber Hayward
I... am. I suppose I am.
I have words waiting to awaken. I see something in front of me. I say, "hand," and so it is.
My hand touches something. Lid. My hand does something. Push. Open.
Open the lid.
Something painful. It is a sound.
My hand touches... things on me. Ears. My two hands cover my two ears and the sound is less painful but it doesn't stop.
I know how to stop it. I am in and I must be out. Out where I can touch something and stop the sound.
I get out of my transport pod (what is transport? What is pod?) and cross the room and hit the button. The sound stops.
I don't know where I am, but this is progress. A moment ago I didn't know that I don't know where I am. And as I ponder this, I realize--I don't know who I am.
I look around in the place where I am, the place I labeled the "room" and I see two other transport pods. I am a who and I am not the only who.
And I am afraid.