All I remember is turning around. Seeing grass and a bed of flowers, my nose and mouth filled with a really bad smell. Nothing that has happened before that moment—no person, place or thing—remains on the screen inside my mind. I don’t know my name, my age, my address; wearing clothes that are odd but mended and clean, I speak English with no discernible accent. No one claims me and that is that. For two decades, that moment in the park is my birth, at the age of around sixteen, until the day the building explodes around me, and the past comes back. In the hours I wait for someone to find me, I review my childhood with amused disbelief. As it turns out, I was raised by wolves.
About Maria Porges
based in Oakland, CA, United States