A New World

My legs, two spindly limbs that hadn't been used in over 60 years, wobbled as I made my way down what used to be my street. I tried to tell myself that the disuse was all that caused the problem, but I couldn't lie to myself.

The truth was, I was terrified.

At having lived through 35 years, I shouldn't be as freaked out as I was. I had, after all, lived through the uncertainty of the Depression, and viewed first-hand the horrors of the Second Great War. The blaring lights, screaming sounds, and all-around sensory-overload shouldn't have been bothing me as much as they were.

The lights hitting my corneas were cold, mechanical. They blinded me, forcing my eyes to squint shut against the glare. It was like waking up, only to find yourself staring directly into the sun on a cloudless day. The pain was fierce, and I could only hope that the feeling would go away in time.

A gentle hand on my back steadied me as I stumbled. I nodded determinedly at the voice that gently asked, "Are you alright?" I was okay. I was fine.

While I had put up a fight earlier, inside I was greatful that the scientists and doctors that woke me decided that I needed someone to come spot me on my first day in the new world. I had already tripped twice, and facing reality was easier knowing I had somebody standing next to me, ready to help at a moment's notice.

Vehicles that I could only assume were current-model versions of the automoblie zipped past, flying with such vigor and verocity that there were more than a couple times that I was sure I was going to be hit-- reborn into a new life, only to be yanked right out of it. There were so, so many. Back before the experiment, I would have been surprised had the total number of people in the world came close to the immense amount of these automobiles on this road alone.

People glared at me as I walked past, giving me lingering looks of angry curiousity, though no one outright asked the questions hidden in their gazes. They brushed past me as my speed was not matching their's, treating me as an obstacle they had to go around.

"Why is he walking so slow?" they said silently. "Why can't he speed up?" The truth was, I didn't know. Even if my legs were responding with their normal accuracy, would I move as fast as these people? Or would I lean against the cool brick of a building, taking in the sights around me?

My breath was coming out in sharp, harsh gasps by then, so the nurse next to me gently nudged me out of the flow of people and lowered onto an old wooden bench.

"That's it," she said, calming voice cutting through my thoughts. "Just breathe. You're lucky you had the strength to make it this far so soon, so just relax."

I heeded her advice, sucking in breath after breath. I'd take just a moment to gather myself, but no longer. I couldn't relax as she said. The world had waited 67 years for my return, and now that I was back, I certainly wouldn't wait for it.