Wet Grass By Darren King He awoke in a field of knee high grass with a slight air of confusion floating about inside his head. His eyes had already been open for at least five minutes prior, but only now did he acknowledge the fact that he was conscious, and was lying on his back gazing up into the sky. The sky appeared to be particularly colourless today, a sort of light but dull Grey, and as he thought about this he contemplated if Grey was infact a colour, and if it was, was it underrated? He decided to stand up. He found his mind willing but his body had not yet received the instruction, which led him to spend another five minutes lying in the grass trying to persuade his body to move. After a lot of persuasion and bargaining on his mindís part, his body decided to make the effort and move. He tried to stand up, but he found that this required more effort than he had at first imagined, and so more reasoning with his body was necessary. Eventually, and with considerable effort, he managed to stand erect. His joints cracked with every slight movement and so he spent a while stretching and moving so as to make his body more limber. After he had stretched every muscle he could think of, he found that his body no longer felt tired and worn, but that a surge of energy had somehow accumulated at some central point in his body, but then exploded, sending a surplus of energy to each one of his now limber muscles. He looked over his body as if checking everything was in order, and he noticed that he was wearing a suit. He remarked to himself that the suit fitted him well, and that the front was a little crumpled, but over all that he looked quite dignified. After adjusting his blazer a little, he felt a cold dampness on his back. He looked over the rest of his clothes, but they were not wet; just the back of his blazer and the back of his trousers. His eyes scanned the area around him, investigating. He wondered if it had been raining when he was asleep, but deduced that the front of his clothes would also be wet if, indeed, this was the case. He considered the situation. He arrived at the conclusion that it had indeed been raining, but that it had stopped before he had lay down on the field, and it was merely the grass that was wet. He bent down and patted his hand on the grass, and stood up again smiling. The grass had indeed been wet, but he did not know he was smiling. He pondered upon this for a while and concluded that it was the satisfaction of reasoning the previous problem into a conclusion that made him smile, and then he smiled again because he had infact, when trying to find out why he was smiling, reasoned out another problem into a conclusion. He gave a small laugh, but then another thought struck him, and this time it seemed to be a very complicated problem; how did he get here? He thought about this idea for a while; what had happened that led him to be lying in a field of knee-high wet grass in a nice suit? This led him onto another question that seemed to be more complicated again; who was he? This was clearly beyond his reasoning, and for some reason, he decided to sit down in the wet grass. He thought it over again. He knew that he had woken up in a field of wet grass that was wet because it had been raining sometime before, and that it was not raining now. He did not know who he was or even how he got there. He also remembered that the back of his suit was wet. That was it! He decided to check the pockets of his clothes for some clue that might lead him to some explanation for these new found mysteries. He searched his pockets systematically; checking his front pocket trousers first, then the back, and then the pockets on the front of his suit. Nothing. A feeling of overwhelming fear and claustrophobia came over him as he patted his suit all over hoping to find anything as to who he was, until he noticed that something was pressed against his chest in his breast pocket on the inside of his suit. He felt a surge of relief. He put his hand in to investigate and found a mobile phone, a cigarette lighter and a wallet. He put the phone and lighter back in his pocket and started to investigate the wallet. He flicked through the various cards contained in the wallet, three of which were credit cards (all gold coloured, but belonging to different banks), a half-readable blood donor card, an employee identification card and a business card. All showed the same name on them; James Morgan, although none had his address on it. As the names or the cards all matched, he decided that they must all be his, and that he would call himself James Morgan. He looked at the employee identification card, which stated his name, employee number, age and job title. It also had a photo of James Morgan in a suit, but as he was not one hundred percent sure that he was infact James Morgan, and due to the fact that he could not remember what he looked like, he could not be sure if it was himself. The employee identification card said that his name was James Morgan, employee number 84127 75113 55219. It also said that he was thirty-five, and that he was a Systems Analyst, however, at this moment, he did not know what a Systems Analyst did. He put the cards back into their slots in the wallet and started investigating again. He pulled up a little flap that was fastened down with a button like device, and emptied the contents of it into his left hand. There was a collection of brown, gold and silver coins. Morgan noticed that there were various sizes of the silver and brown coins, but there was only one size of gold coin. He dismissed this investigation into the coins as he thought that it seemed irrelevant. He neatly emptied the coins back into the pouch that they had came from and fastened the flap shut. He opened the segments of the wallet in turn, noting that there were bits of paper with different numbers and pictures on them. He took one out of the wallet and read the writing on one of the sides; "Promise to pay the bearer on demand FIVE POUNDS." He turned the piece of paper over and read "The Bank of Scotland." He returned the piece of paper to its place within the wallet, folded the wallet up, and placed it back in the inside pocket of his blazer. Morgan looked about his surroundings. He was in the middle of a disused field, which was now filled with over-grown grass (which, he added as a footnote, was wet). He saw that the field seemed to be surrounded by hills, and that the field he stood in was actually at the bottom of a small valley. Morgan studied the hills in turn. He noticed that the hills surrounding the valley were not tremendously high, and that one of the hills had a large monument on the top of it. He looked in the opposite direction and, in the distance, Morgan caught sight of a resivour. Upon seeing the resivour, Morgan decided that he was thirsty, and that he would go for a drink. As he walked, the thirst became greater, and the ground became increasingly harder to walk on; the long grass impeading his ability to walk effectively. However, he did not tire, and his muscles still felt energetic as he progressed forward towards the water. An hour later he finally reached the resivour, and frantically started drinking. The water was cool on Morganís dry throat, and he took several gulps and washed his face to freshen it up. He looked up and traced the stream that flowed into the resivour back up the hill as far as he could. He noticed that it originated (in his field of sight) at a point on top of one of the higher hills, and that it worked itís way down the hill in a pattern similar to a vein, until finally it reached the resivour at a small waterfall, only about half a meter high. He did not notice that the waterfall produced a noise, but upon noticing it, his ears trained themselves on it and the noise became louder and louder. Morgan looked across the resivour and wondered if there was any fish in it. He looked about to see if he could see the fish bobbing at the surface for flies, but he could not see any. This train of thought brought about a feeling of uneasy-ness on him, for he had not seen any birds in the sky when he was lying in the field. He traced back through his memory since waking up in the field, and came to the conclusion that he had not seen any other form of life at all. Even the small flies that swarm areas with these types of geographical features were abnormally absent. His concentration on this * drowned out the sound of the waterfall that his ears amplified so greatly The Grey sky produced an eerie feeling along with his uneasiness, and he noticed that in this vast Grey sky, he could not see the sun anywhere. His body involuntarily shuddered and he felt his skin break into Goosebumps. The dampness was still present in the back of his suit, and there was now a sweat on his back and under his arms from his journey here from his rest point. He looked about again. There was still no sign of life anywhere in the valley. He decided to follow the stream back up the hill, or at least until he came across a path. He took one last drink and started in the direction of the stream.