An uneasy morning.

I woke to the sensation of being suspended in mid-air. Instinctively I struggled for the ground, and when I reached forward it occurred to me that I was upside-down, with my face toward the ground, as I clawed at the dirt and sharp stones in front of me. I tried to find my bearings, as I breathed in the thick, strange air; it was impossibly damp and filled with ash. Finally I became aware that my eyes were still closed, and I could not see. I opened them and it stung for a moment, but then I could see the stones that I had grabbed at, through the hazy air that seemed unnervingly thick and foggy. Thrusting my arms toward the ground, I attempted to right myself and stand, but I only spun in place to look at the sky, surrounded by treetops; the air was much cleaner here, although my breathing was still heavy and laboured. Finally I managed to stand on the ground that was behind me, with some difficulty, and realised that I was in the middle of a shallow river, and I had been lying face-first in its polluted water. I reflexively tried to cough up the fluid in my lungs but seemed to have no breathing trouble besides a certain heaviness. Gazing down, I saw that my abdomen had swollen in an unsightly manner; perhaps that was what kept me afloat. Maybe I was sick. I forced myself to climb the riverbank, and in reaching the top I found a nearby street.

I had no idea where to go now; in fact, not only could I not remember what I was doing in a river, I could not remember anything at all. I wandered through the streets aimlessly and watched as people gave me uneasy looks. I looked down; my hair had become filthy, and my clothes were tattered. Eventually someone approached me. I did not recognise his face, but he looked me in the eyes with an alert gaze, and said, "what are you doing here?" It was only at this moment that I realised that I had drowned.