Field

The grass below me was soft but scratchy, like an old blanket that needed washed. It brushes against my face ever so gently. My head spins to the left. A smile flickers across my lips. A laugh rises in my throat. A few moments ago I was sitting in the office of the library, typing up some papers and answering emails. Now with the wind in the sky, my hair blowing wildly behind me; I find myself in a field, blissfully without knowing about any emails - This is life.

But there is just one teensy-weensy issue - Where the hell am I?