The door opened into a small hallway. I don’t know why I waited so long to try and open the door – it wasn’t even locked. Yet when I think back to when this strange adventure began I am not sure there was even a door there before. How very strange.
I haven’t been feeling myself the last little while – perhaps I was drugged by my abductors? I am tired and groggy and my head aches. It hasn’t helped that I have not been eating these last few days.
This place is neat and tidy even if it is not spacious. Pale green walls and more of that chocolate hardwood floors. Yet there is no sign of anyone else here in this place at all. There is a small sitting area with some books on a shelf. I will be back to investigate what there is to read.
The kitchen is tiny – a galley kitchen ripped from some cabin cruiser on one of the great lakes. Small fridge, microwave, hotplate, and a few cabinets. The plates are utilitarian white with a pale blue edge. The cutlery plain and sturdy. There is bread and I rip off chunks and it in my mouth while searching for anything else that is quick to prepare. And then I spot it: Peanut butter.
There is nothing in the world that is better than peanut butter – except for peanut butter with honey. Sadly no honey is to be found – so I make do standing with the jar in one hand and using the bread to scoop up the gooey goodness. Too much, too fast, and my mouth is suddenly a dry ball of goop. Frantically I flick the taps and scoop handfuls of water to soften the mass in my mouth. Finally able to chew I swallow and slow down.
Taking my time I find almonds, and bananas and some tea. While I enjoy the banana I boil some water in the microwave for a mug of tea. Then carry the mug back to my room and my one connection with the world somewhere beyond.
The screen is a mass of clicks and prompts like someone has run with tiny footprints all over the words I have been writing into the ethernet. Evidence that someone or something is reading my words – perhaps watching me.
And there a bright beacon: “I am here” flashing on screen
“Who are you?” I type back. And wait. Sip my mint tea. And wait. And sip. Realizing that I am unexpectedly sleepy, my eyes will not stay open, my body barely responding to my demands flops towards my futon and falls. The ceiling spins above me in wavering patterns and then the dreams begin…