A sharp hit of the water around me, coming back to senses and from the zoned-out ways of the one in front of me's expectations, the constant reminders that they expected this. Who told them. Or was it just fate? Picked from lotto names? No, must be more simple, but then who's the snitch? Do people watch me, wonder who I am? And then that zone came right back, not being there at all for the discussion, a full how-long of just overthinking the whole thing, words swimming over the head, until directly addressed.
Asked again why I seemed so out of it. Brushing it off, again. There's probably something obviously wrong with me by now. But they don't care, merely taking me by the shoulder, the sound of medals on a coat ringing like the water (or wind, if you're reading this from a normal place) chimes. The finale of that whole talk I managed to miss within my own head, ok, maybe I was more there than I thought but by now the memory's have slipped away, so maybe it wasn't important in the first place.
Telling me I looked perfect for the role. I still don't know what they meant by this, with such a grin, piercing through the heart, and giving me the slightest motivation that would lead to my legacy, almost forgotten amongst what would be rubble within a thousand.