There was this deer. It didn’t know where it came from. It lived by a creek.

There were forests and fields and houses and people and other animals.

The deer grew one half antler and another antler that was half that.

The deer hurt its leg, near the ankle. It didn’t know how it did it. It was hurt bad. It couldn’t walk on the leg. It had to hop everywhere it went.

And it got cold then.

Some want to know about what order these things happened in. The deer didn’t know which one.

The deer went to sleep.

When the deer woke up, its leg hurt. Everything hurt. The pain in the leg went everywhere.

The deer laid there on the ground, in some dirt and leaves. The sky was gray and black. The hurt was gray and black too.

The deer looked up at the sky and clenched its body. The pain was gripping it. Gray and black was all over the deer.

The deer got up. It walked on three legs and did all the things a deer does.

It found water and drank it.

It found food and ate it.

It was careful around humans.

It was careful around dogs.

It was careful around other things.

The whole time, the deer hurt all over — every step, every bite, every look, every moment — the deer hurt.

The ground below the deer was green and brown. The hurt was green and brown too. It covered the whole deer. The deer clenched, but it still did what deer do.

Some want to know if a deer knows when its leg is hurt, if a deer is aware like that, if a deer can despair. The deer didn’t know if it did.

The deer kept doing its things. The earth kept getting colder. The air was so black and so cold. The deer was gray. It clenched. The pain went all around it.

The pain was in the clouds too. The clouds above the deer hurt all over. The clouds were gray. Everything was so cold.

The deer had a dream that it died. When it died, it went down inside its own intestines. The deer was warm in there. The walls were so smooth. It was mostly dark there, but the deer could see some orange lights.

The deer decided not to stay there.

The deer woke up. It felt funny. It walked onto some simple plain grass and it pooped.

Then it took three steps, and it pooped again.

Then it took three steps, and its hoof fell off.

The hoof rested there in the grass, next to the poop. There was no blood.

The deer looked at the hoof. It didn’t know if the hoof was still part of it.

The deer looked at the poop. It didn’t know if the poop was still part of it.

The deer looked at the hoof some more. Now it didn’t know if the hoof had ever been part of it. The deer couldn’t remember.

Then the sun came out from behind the cliff on the other side of the creek. Something new happened to the deer. Now the deer was remembering…

The deer realized you could remember things that hadn’t happened yet. It realized that some things don’t happen until after you remember them.

The deer started remembering more and more things, remembering them faster and faster. It remembered everything. Everything got remembered.

The deer walked down a small hill, away from the plain simple grass, and laid down in a thicket.

And that was when the hurt stopped in the deer.

And then the deer died.

It saw a beautiful orange light.

It happened exactly in that order.