Gray clouds slowly slide across the sky threatening to unleash a torrent of rain. I sit with my back against a large tree trunk watching the storm’s opening act. The bark is rough and splinters easily around me. I pick up a large broken piece off the ground and turn it over in my hands. It’s gritty and smells of the earth. It’s seen many days.

I’ve seen many days. Many days in the same four walled home. I’ve watched the same people come and go. Day in and day out. Now here I am - in this wide open field. Unaware of how I got here. Unaware of how to leave.

- - unfinished - -