There are brief points – lapses really – when suddenly everything becomes foreign to me; language, location, faces, identity. These gaps punctuate my life at odd intervals; periods where commas should have been. Momentarily and utterly lost, I pause, to gather what is known, and breathe deeply.

After a few seconds the narrative picks up where it left off and carries on, skipping and reeling, but I am left to sort out the confusion in its wake.