Learning To Live As A Cultivator 2 Chapter Two - I Come To Realise That This Is Not My Body

Despite the scratches upon his fingers confusing him, he felt that there was a low table close to him and a narrow wooden bed with a mattress filled with gra.s.ses behind him. The wooden floor was also gritty with dirt. Of course this did not make any sense to him. The motel had been cheap for sure, but the lumpy mattress had springs and cotton sheets covering it. The floor had been carpeted and he could not recall a table anywhere. Clearly, he was not in that room anymore. So the question remained, where was he and how did he get here?

Rising upon tender legs and wobbling from the strain, he cautiously crept around the table, arms outstretched until his fingers touched a wall. Upon that wall, he felt that there were shelves and on them a potted plant, it's soil too dry. There were other things, but he couldn't tell what they were.. an ornament perhaps? He shuffled away from where he knew the bed was and felt his fingers touch the cold gla.s.s of a small window. It would not let much light in, he thought, considering it's size, though he was sure the room was light judging from what little he could see.

Continuing his exploration, he found a door. It was of a rough wood and it's handle, which felt loose was of unpolished metal. He tested the door, to open it, he needed to pull it inward. A rush of cold, fresh air and scents of wet wood and damp earth a.s.saulted his nose. Tiny droplets. .h.i.tting wide leaves and wood made him realise it was raining. His hand reached out of the doorway, few raindrops. .h.i.t his skin, so he ventured further, though walked in a straight line forward.

He came to a point where the rain could wet him and he stood in the cold falling waters, turning his face to greet them. He shuddered as they ran down his face, easing the tightness upon his skin, wincing as they brushed over cuts and abrasions. Eventually, he turned around, making sure he was in line to return to the doorway before slowly returning.

Feeling the door, he shut out the wet and cold and stripped off the soaked garments on his body, using them to clean away what crusted blood still lingered on his face, with great care. Then he took his weary body to that bed and slipped inside the rough linen sheets before sleep took over once more.

*****

His stomach awoke him loudly. The pain had receded more and the swelling of his eyes was reduced, but his vision was still cloudy and he could not understand why. He could see that it was darker now, though there appeared to be a soft source of light emanating from the side of the room that he had not yet explored. He carefully wandered over to it. There was no heat coming from the light and it did not flicker, so he reached for it to find it was in sphere form. It did not help him with the problem of his vision, so he left it alone.

There was more shelves this side, a bookshelf? Small, cold gla.s.s shapes were stacked upon it, though some were knocked over upon their sides. There were more dry soiled potted plants as well, but he had not yet found a source of water to sate his own thirst let alone a plant. However to the left of this was another place with shelves, beneath them two cupboards and a wooden surface which held a wide bowl containing water.

Though stale and warm, it tasted as if it was the sweetest source of water on Earth. It did not completely quench his thirst as he scooped it out with his palm, but it eased the furriness of his tongue and the dryness of his throat. Calmer, he crept back to the bed, before sitting at the low table. He recalled that he had touched something on its surface, but had been too deep in his questioning of it to wonder what that was.

Now he discovered another bowl of hardened clay, though it had been broken, it's contents spilled, but what was in those shards were two roundish shapes. As he touched them, bringing them to his useless eyes, his nose scented their fragrance and his mouth watered. Fruit! He didn't know what type and frankly he did not care, each delicious mouthful could not be savoured as his stomach cried for more. Spitting out only the seeds, he consumed all of the sweet flesh, pining when there was nothing left.

He sighed and then decided to clear up the broken pottery, less he have an accident in this state. Piece by piece was collected and placed to one side outside. As he did this, he found a length of thin metal shaped about two thick gla.s.s circles. Almost sheepishly, he placed them over his weary eyes and the world suddenly came into focus.

The single roomed hut that he had awoken in, the unfamiliar surroundings and large woodland outside it became so much clearer when he came to realise that he was inside a body that was not his own.