The top drawer of the bureau was specifically used for organized trinkets-those
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things that are rarely used more than once, and still had some relevant use
perhaps for the future, or be it, the next coming days-as they put it.
The metal pane in the window was cold to the touch, and from a distance seemed
even colder-but from here looking at it while fumbling through the drawer of
trinkets I can make a small bargain with myself without them knowing it-a
slight distraction was what I needed to fail this project-the books on the
nightstand with their pages left open at no particular way in no specific way.
I picked up a book of matches that had three missing-or used-or maybe their
were seventeen left. A confident manufacturer for a competent product-or maybe
like the window and the distraction element-a manufacturer making their own
agreement with the buyer-we use more than we need: "Excellent"-came that
annoying voice again.
"Cigarettes"-I replied back-my voice louder than usual:"Smart ass!"-the voice
returned, and in the background before the click, was a different voice-
sounded like a female-must be wearing a pitch protector or maybe she is the
reason why I am here.
The organized experiment project left a sour taste in my mouth-they don't give
me medication, it is all electronically simulated-Topographically I think-
They pin-point areas in my body and brain, and send simulated impulses through
the walls and I react however they think I will behave-The aliens use a
similar method, but humans seem to be more methodical and critical-I wonder
why sometimes because we are no more organized now than we will ever become.
D.E.M.-04 To Be Cont.