Agnes POV
Something was happening to me that I could not explain. It was like the painting; I had no memory of painting; and had never learned to paint and yet it all felt so familiar, it came so easy. When I held the brush something magical seemed to happen to me. It was this overpowering feeling that I was something much more than I knew myself to be. It was as though a part of me that I had kept repressed had suddenly come to life. Sometimes I found myself struggling to remember something or my body did things that were strange to me but seemed familiar to me.
For instance today I wanted to go and sit by the east garden while watching the moon take its full form. I could not think of any logical reason I wanted to do this almost to the point of banging at the door to be let out.
T
