You were consumed by the sensation of being inside a spinning water tank.

It was nausea, it was comfort, it was a fog that would never lift, and after changing form, it burst.

When you open your eyes, you are sitting on a bench at a bus stop late at night. The annoying loudness of the cicadas tells you it's summer. But that's all you know.

In your memory, only the board of common sense and words remains, as if all the pieces of your memories have been completely swept away, leaving nothing behind. Suddenly, someone taps you on the shoulder.