I awoke this morning still strapped in the
chair. This wasn’t a surprise, though the chair had oxidized more than I might
have expected.
I promised myself, when this all began, that
I would not panic prematurely. That I would not engage in hyperbole. That I
would wait, surely I would wait, until something bad actually happened before
screaming out.
Yes, I promised myself this and I always keep
the promises I make to myself. I believe if one does not keep one’s promises to
oneself, then trust is broken, and if I no longer trust myself, then all is
truly lost.
Still, I awoke this morning to discover a
small table had been brought into the room during the night. Upon this table
sits a silver tray. Upon the tray are tools – implements, even, you might say –
such as could be used in crude dental extractions. I also see a long apparatus like
an ice pick and another of a sort for, say, scooping out small lumps of ice
cream, I suppose.
The laughing in the corridor outside is of
the type described in literature as “maniacal”.
He can’t come in yet – he’s not allowed to –
and I did promise myself I would not panic prematurely, although I admit to you
that ever since someone rolled out sheets of plastic beneath my chair last
week, that’s a promise which I have been greatly tempted to break.
But no.
Not me.
I am going to sit here and wait to see how all
of this plays out.
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