3 years 2 days


    Memories haunted my dreams. Memories of violence that felt removed. Memories that I could not explain.


    There was no Crib in those memories, no nurses.


    I saw blood and dead bodies, but all I felt was annoyance.  I saw pictures of a person running through a desolate desert, through ruins, using something I knew was called a sword to kill the enemy. It was copper.


    I had never encountered anything like it in my life.


    Yet I saw copper as something novel, special. Something most tribes did not have. I did not even understand what a tribe was.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    All I knew was glass in the windows of our Crib and wood, stone, rarely porcelain and many kinds of cloth and leather. I knew nurses and children and was faintly aware of the existence called mother that had given birth to us by some miracle.


    And yet I knew that I was both. It made my head ache, but after what had happened to Fern I realized that an aching head was not so bad. So I tried to fight through the pain as I lay half awake, to find what this dream was trying to tell me.


    Alas, I did not find it.