“The dance between sun and clouds, the discourse between meadow and flowers, I knew, and even the imagined sonata of stream and bird had touched a memory too drowsy to rise to consciousness. A memory the shade of night almost resurfaced upon my mind; the sensation of breeze almost linked to the isolated neuron clusters. I embraced that nausea and tried to nourish it, hoping it would mature into a newborn image, an episode in my personal history, a defining symbol of my self. If only I could reach deeper into that emotion, link the neurons between my amygdala and my prefrontal cortex, I might touch my forgotten self.”