I Think, Therefore I Am. Surely?

She takes a tentative step forward. Her movements are slow calculated, yet offensive and so mistaken.

She slips and falls amidst the tiny minuscules of a thousand yellow grains like quick sand beneath her feet, she nurses a swollen knee.

Beyond her footsteps, there lies a vast desert. Beyond, pools of ice cool water. A desperate need.

''I am in the Sahara, dry and dead. But there.'' She points ahead, whispering softly ''There is an oasis. An o-a-s-i-s'' she sings.

He nods.

''And now, what else?'' He prompts.

She leans forward, head in her hands.

''I am amongst the yellow sand dunes, and I can see...a...movement, a movement in the distance.''

''And what is happening in the distance?'' He asks.

She rocks back and forth, head on hands and whimpers.

''I can see,'' she falters. ''I- I can see...many hands...many feet, marching, coming towards me.''

She stops speaking in obvious distress.

''what else can you see now?"' he asks.

She pauses. Takes a breath. Seems to think.

'I can not only just see, but I can hear!'' She cries out.

'What can you hear?'' He leans forward.

''I can... I can hear sounds.''

He waits for a moment, speaking no words.

''Off course.'' His answer is wry. ''And what 'sounds' can you hear?"

She smiles, head in her lap, she laughs, clapping gleefully.

''I can hear them, and see them, I can see and hear, both at the same time!''.

''What do you see and hear both at the same time?'' He questions.

''Them..." She whispers. ''The army. They are loud and strong, fast in approach. They tell me I am the queen of Sheba. They are covered in the colours of the rainbow.''

She bites her finger nails, spitting each one out with pride.

He frowns as he smooths down his hair, wiping away her sharp, wet, stray fingernail from his chin. ''They say?'' he continues.

''They say I am the next in line to reign to seat upon the golden throne. They are happy. They fall at my feet. They had been seeking after me for a long long time''.

She smiles, seemingly content and assured of her answer she sits upright in a regal posture.

Her eyes are glazed, and she seems catatonic. There is not much that can be done. He steps out of the room, and closes the door behind him.

Behind the glass screen he stares at her, she is seated in a cold and lonely room, with grey walls, one table and two chair seated beyond a glass screen.

''What's your verdict?'' His partner asks.

He pats his colleague on the shoulder and leans forward.

''Keep way way way clear of drugs''. He replies. ''Keep well, well away.''