The rain fell.

She finished tying her shoes. There were special words for this, but she didn’t remember them anymore. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken the terms, leaving her simply with pictures and the memory of sounds to follow with motion. She watched the rain fall, the places where it was consistent. She imagined what noises it made, back when she remembered hearing them.

Rising to her feet, she stood uncertain on her tip toes. There were positions, she remembered. There was so much she had forgotten. Yet, when she trailed a foot up her calf and then extended it out into the rain, she knew she remembered enough.

The water soaked through the glitter of her tutu, but she danced there with happiness.