Weeks pass, and you’re full of a strange clarity. You feel more or less like yourself –– in fact, you somehow feel more like yourself. Attributes of your past you never cared to hold onto clutter your mind, catalogued for recall whenever you think of anything similar. You find yourself remembering which piece of cake you asked for at a friend’s 7th birthday, and what time it was whenever the bus stopped outside your house.
New details of each day seem to pile into your inexhaustible memory. While comforted by this ease of thinking, you also find it uncanny. You wonder if what happened in the desert was the last thing you’d forget.