[Del]'s Diary

ENTRY SEVENTY-NINE

I woke up to the lights flickering on and off. I asked Fill about it when he arrived to take me for my shower.

“Oh, that! It’s just some little ole’ hurricane. Don’t be worrying your precious head over it.” Then he laughed at the irony of me taking a shower. “We’ll all be wet soon enough,” he said grimly.

“Should I scrub between my toes?” I asked him.

He looks at me deadpan in the face and said, “Always.” 

The Doc then had me brought round to his office to scold, “You haven't been writing in your journal.”

“My what?” I asked.

“Logos,” he replied. He pronounced it as Low goce, which I find funny as I’ve been calling it Lawgaws in my head.

I shrugged.

The Doc looked at me sternly and said, “Need I remind you that according to the contract you've signed with us, you agreed to be compliant on this point.”

The rat bolted up in my belly and my mind flashed to me, sitting at this desk before, wearing jeans and a frilly blouse, and a pen in hand. Waves of nausea swept over me while I remembered smiling at the Doc’s reassuring face as I pointed the tip of my pen to the dotted line where I was supposed to sign my name. I was so close to remembering it.

“Well,” the Doc said now in the here and present (wherever that is), and the memory jumped out of view. I swallowed as the panic subsided but at the same time felt satisfaction.

I remembered. A real genuine memory. Perhaps this mean more would follow.

“I have nothing to write about,” I replied.

“Well,” he pursed his lips together, “Write about that.” I didn’t respond and he let me go. In the hallway, Fill hissed at me that I better do as I’m told if I know what’s good for me.

Back in my room, I found a pack of cards with two Jokers: a black one and a red one. And so I began to play.

[Deleted]