As I lay in the dank with all the other cockroaches, feeling the pains under my ribcage and behind my eyes subside slightly, with that comfortable, familiar feeling of numbness taking over again, I thought to myself, 'today will be a good day.' Day? Yes, the little pale grey light distilling through the translucent, fungus covered piece of fiber glass that was my sky attested so. Sky? A wind carrying the scent of something I'd forgotten the meaning of began to blow over the steppes in my mind. I was overwhelmed suddenly by the feeling of a past that was lost to me, beaten beyond recognition by the regular, numbing but brutal lashes of time, faceless, whip in hand as it plods on and plods on, once it's there it's gone. Sky? The word had such a strangely familiar feeling to it. Sky. There was something inside me awakening I had forgotten the existence of. Rusty chords in my heart began to sing again. Elation? It was faint though, filtered, like the light coming through the fiberglass sheet I was staring at. It was whispering just beyond my ability to hear, forming quiet syllables that I couldn’t derive meaning from. I strained to listen and it was going. I struggled to retain it but it slipped like sand through my desperately clenched fists. And it was gone. Numb again. I lay my head down again on last year’s rotting hay. I forgot.