Stone Awakening

Stiff... then heavy. Air enters. I blinked. The trees were tall, swaying above. In front of me lay a mossy boulder resting in the dirt. I raised my heavy left hand, moving slow, deliberate. My thick fingers pressed down against the wet green moss on the rock. It gave way softly under my touch. Cold moisture seeped into my stony palm. I am here. Rooted, solid, alive.