My consciousness was formed in a day. I knew darkness and light. I learned to breathe, pump blood, eat, drink, toilet. I’d mastered the fundamentals of language by the second day although vocabulary continued to increase with every new day. Motor skills paralleled my cognitive development. I learned to crawl, to walk, run, fly and eventually shift. On the seventh day, I learned to sleep.
When I awoke on the fifteenth day, birds were making teet-teet noises from somewhere under the branches of a tree. The wind fluttered the leaves. A raccoon stepped in front of me on the path, said “Excuse me!” and walked on. Some people chose new lives as animals, trees and even the wind. These things my nurse mother taught me. I understood and felt no fear. But this man, this old man, confused me.
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