Daymares 10

I watch silently. Happy for once that the light is slipping away.  It has been over an hour now that my world has gone back to the controlled silence it has always had before.  No more grinding, no more shoes in the hall.  The drip in my tubes and the sound of my own breath is all I can hear.  What disturbs me most is that this truly is all I can hear.  There are no piped in noises to make me believe there is a world outside my window.  No wind playing games with leaves.  No birds.  Not even a cricket.  I think they forgot to turn the system on.

And this is why I am happy the light is slipping away.  I think perhaps this might mean that I can actually tell night from day in this place.  It had occurred to me that the light was also part of the show.  And I suppose it still could be.  Perhaps the grinding was just the sound system breaking down?  I have decided to go with what gives me comfort and believe that the light follows the sun and not a circuit board somewhere. Today it has been unusually grey.  I had expected rain.  Now it is simply fading to black.  And with the black will come the blades.  I am ready now.  I have spent so much of the day tied up in internal knots that I believe I have made myself numb to them already.

I try to recall the little scraps I have held of myself. The curved sliver of white with its round of blue.  The fragment chocolate so dark it could be black and a rectangle of light.  That odd piece of greyed-blue with the strands of brown in it.  None of them seem to fit together, yet I feel that they do belong together.  I have no idea why.  They just seem right when I think of them as belonging to a  whole.  Like a part of a set where the master piece is missing.  Odds are over a trillion to one that I will find the missing fragment,(fragments) that will put this puzzle together, yet I can't help wishing for the next clue.

The daydreams have been nice.  I know they are probably not the images the warders here would like to be culling from me, but I can't exactly force my mind to give them what they want.  Especially since I am not really sure what that might be.  Fragments of conversations caught through the door in what must have been at least a year or more ago, hardly bear remembering.  "Quality imagination that one"...."Get some good images"...."I'd by that for my kid, make them feel safe and warm of a night"....... I can't say that much that I have thought or dreamed lately would make anyone fell safe and warm, even in daylight.

Daylight, that has left me now.  The blades have begun the slicing dance.  Cut after rotating cut, I can feel the rain of fragments fall about me.  Where once I would have asked, "Why?"  Now I find myself anxiously wondering, "When?"  When will I find another fragment?  Will it be the right one?  Will I know what to do with it when I find it?  Is there really a way out?

Is that the light of the sun or simply a computer driven vision meant to keep me occupied while they cycle away my opportunities to live my days?