She sits in a thing

And there's this

Stuff

But not stuff

Like a thing

And it's coming in through this spot

But there's something there

And sitting in the thing in the spot with the stuff coming in through the space feels nice and peaceful

And that's nice

To not be confused about that at least

Sunlight?

Sunlight!

That's it! My goodness, it's such a relief to remember the name of sunlight

But if only she could remember the name of the thing

That she's sitting in

And the

The spot

The...

There's a person there all dressed in some sort of clothing that looks like she's ready for bed

And she's asking how she is

And she doesn't know who this person is

But the person seems to know her

She greeted her by name

Her name

She remembers that, at least

Margaret Josephine Miller

That's her name and she knows it well

And this person has addressed her by her own Christian name

Which is rather presumptuous

"Mrs. Miller," she corrects.

"Oh, my apologies Mrs. Miller. I mean no offense."

"It's alright," she says. "But if you could please tell me, what do you call this?"

She points at the thing she is sitting in.

"That's called a chair, Mrs. Miller."

"Yes, a chair!" she says. "It must've slipped my mind. And that?"

"That's a window," the woman says, and it's clear she's being very patient.

"The sunlight is so warm and comforting," Margaret says with pride, pride in her ability to remember the word sunlight on her own.