How did I get here? I ask myself, struggling to contend with the boulder atop me and the Earth below, each exerting their natural forces. I have only a ragged memory of what came before this—a pleasant stroll on the mountain, a little hunger… And then? I am at a loss. It all feels inappropriate.
The sun is rising or setting and the wind is weaving through the tree line or being wrung from my body. The question is a distraction. Without recourse, I gather the meager forces I have to offer, close my eyes, and try to wake.