I stand there, watching the golden fields of wheat fade into the darkness twenty yards out. The lantern dimly lights my sullen face as the rays of yellow disappear twenty yards out. In the darkness, I know that to the north are the Rocky Mountains. To the east, there are rivers, and to the west, there is the ever-beating ocean tides. Finally, to the south, there is my house. At least, I think all those things are there. In this darkness, I think they are, but I am not sure of their existence. I am not sure of much anymore. All I can see is the golden fields twenty yards out.