A new day rises in perhaps a new world for this old man…

Two days ago, I opened my eyes to the world around me.

So far, my experience has been compared to getting your toe stubbed on the wall and hitting your head right after because you leaned forward to grab the toe.

Overall, it has been a rough start to experiencing babyhood again. Over the past two days, I have come to the conclusion that I am once again a child. It may have been the lack of limb length which caught my attention at first, or perhaps the large mustache on what I would describe as the most dictionary definition of a Victorian butler when I awoke.

It must be said that even I was impressed by the man's mustache, not even an errant hair was noticeable.

After taking in the man's face for a few moments, I did what any reasonable person would do in this situation and fell asleep as quickly as I awoke.

It was what I presume to be much later before my consciousness came to me again as I was now in a box, hearing horse feet clomp in my ear. This was followed by the incredible sensation of hunger and thirst all at once, and the odd sensation of the need to cry like my darn life depended on it.

Lucky for whoever was around me, I chose to follow that instinct. The violation was mine, of course*Cough* *Cough*.

Pride is essential for a senior.

Lucky for me, or for the poor souls who had to hear my cry, the box holding my body hostage was pushed open to reveal very large hands. Perhaps it was just my perspective, but those hands looked as big as dinner plates to me.

When I was catapulted several feet upwards with a body that seemed to be made of jelly and soft cream, I had no time to catch my bearings after being removed from my box. A bottle of what I presume to be milk was pulled into my face and into my mouth.

As soon as the bottle landed in front of me, my body latched onto it and I found myself drinking until I couldn't breathe anymore. It seemed in my body's gusto it had forgotten the need for oxygen, and I was now stuck breathing as heavy as a day-old child could.

Before the bottle could even be fully taken away from another pair of dinnerplate-sized hands, I was placed back into the dark box with the lid shut over me soon after. If I had proper vocal cords and were still in my old body, I would curse the parents of this child that I now am.

My parents seem to be the type to create and throw away, not ideal in my opinion, but nothing my wisdom full self can't handle. Now, if only I could keep my eyes open long enough to have proper thought-.

This is the second time I have regained consciousness on this horse ride, and it seems that not much has changed while being asleep.

Looking up to the same old box cover and black walls around me. Perhaps it's one of those things everyone talks about with imprinting on a child's impressionable mind, but I find this box to be oddly comfortable now. That or we have been traveling for a while, and it's hotter outside the box.

After a few minutes of continuous staring into the black surroundings inside the box, the horse's trotting slows down. It's then that I come to the realization that I must have been shaking for a while because the sudden change in pace has me feeling very lightheaded and drowsy.

It took the exact count of ten or eleven seconds before I and whatever I was being carried in had stopped moving altogether. Like myself, whose mind seems to have survived my rebirth, a few seconds become almost cruel to stand while having nothing to do. So counting the seconds can come quickly when trying to relieve quick boredom.

In swift succession to us pausing in place, the crack to open the top of my box was promptly opened and revealed to me an overwhelming amount of light. Causing me to squint my eyes to stand the sudden change in lighting.

I felt myself lift off the ground and into the air, forcing my eyes closed to save myself from the torture of being blinded any longer.

I heard a few odd sounds spoken in a foreign language that I didn't seem to recognize.

I get distracted as I listen to the sounds spoken out of what I hope to be relatively human mouths. Note the 'relative' parts because whatever this language is, it seems to have a lot of clicking and mouth movement that makes it sound like a bunch of crabs clicking their claws together.

As I move off my distracted mind and pry my eyes open a tad bit more, I am forced to close them once more as I am now rapidly plummeting down.

Okay, that might be a dramatic assessment even for me, but I swear that something in me felt that way, okay?

As I harshly descended into the depth of- onto the ground by what I presume to be the same giant hands once again. I finally still myself as a few more bits of rustling noises creep up around me.

I hear footsteps move away as I start to finally open my eyes. This is followed by a sudden wack! And that same sound of trotting horse hooves that quickly move away from my ears.

As this goes on, I would have loved to see who had brought me this far, but I seem to be cramped inside a very large blanket wrap that covers both sides of my prereferral vision. And I am left looking up at barren white wood beams that stretch to the corners of my vision.

It seems that my first look into what world I am currently in happens to be the lovely view of white wood.