The Muse
And when that trauma nears, at night, sometimes, Rick feels the walls of the room he lies in withdrawing. Just as one can lose one's bearings, when one sleeps in a new room for the first time - and the various rooms one has slept in through one's life cycle through one's consciousness - just so Rick will feel the reality of his world fall away. He'll be in the Muse again, subject to the whims of an authority whose judgements he can neither understand or anticipate. And beneath all that will be - or will remain...
Rick walks back to the desk, and steadies himself with one stiff arm against its surface. As he feels his way back to safety, he hears something in the corridor outside. The opening of lift doors. The dragging of a foot across concrete corridor.
It's a client - it has to be. No one else comes this high. There are probably only a dozen other people in the whole towerblock. This person must be after Rick. But what...
Rick's hands are shaking slightly. Only slightly. But, of course, the person approaching the door outside, even now, very now, might not be a client. Might not be good news for Rick.
Rick worries to himself, and the worries have dark wings.
Rick walks back to the desk, and steadies himself with one stiff arm against its surface. As he feels his way back to safety, he hears something in the corridor outside. The opening of lift doors. The dragging of a foot across concrete corridor.
It's a client - it has to be. No one else comes this high. There are probably only a dozen other people in the whole towerblock. This person must be after Rick. But what...
Rick's hands are shaking slightly. Only slightly. But, of course, the person approaching the door outside, even now, very now, might not be a client. Might not be good news for Rick.
Rick worries to himself, and the worries have dark wings.