Strange Little Man

The bells rang. The goddamned bells. They always woke me up at noon. I brushed the slime off my lip and removed my head from my pillow. I saw the sun coming in through the windows as I wiped the sleep out of my eyes. I stumbled to the bathroom for my morning ritual. I then made my way to the kitchen. I didn’t need any bells to tell me the time. I knew the time. The time is noon and I am late.

I looked at my beautiful wife as she finished making my lunch. She kissed me and handed me my plate. I took a bite of my delicious turkey and cheese sandwich. Eleanor has been there for all the hard times, as well as all the good. I tell her I love her while I eat my lunch and read the news on my phone.

There is a news story about a police brutality case and the uproar it caused. Apparently an unarmed black man attempted to rob a liquor store. In their attempt to reprimand the subject, the police shot and killed him. They said he was going for a gun. I knew that I shouldn’t, but I decided to read the comments underneath the article. The people that commented debated about whether he had a gun, whether police should be able to kill subjects, and the fact the man was black. One thing they all had in common was a hatred for each other. I began to feel that hatred too. I wanted to kick something, but I put down my phone and continued to admire the way my wife cared about me. Shit, it was 12:15 and I still needed to smoke my morning cigarette.

I sit in the garage underneath my old school desk. I couldn’t tell you how it got here, only that it’s here. Beer cans from three nights ago sit empty, staring back at me. Ashes from cigarettes long ago smoked lie on the desk like little volcanoes. Cleanliness is time consuming and in this world, where time is luxury, it is a task often overlooked. Bright notepads with meaningless scribbles on them sit close to the ashes. They help further add to the materialistic meaningless that is life. I sip my coffee to compensate for my lack of sleep. It tastes amazing, but I know I will soon need more. Why do we do this to ourselves? Consume horrible products and expose our bodies to things that will likely cause our death. It is now 12:30pm and time to leave for work, god I hope it is a good day.

While on my way to work I encountered many assholes. I began to wonder if I was actually the asshole. An older lady with grey hair and glasses so big they covered half of her face decided to cut me off. I flipped her off, but I doubt she saw. I decide to try and calm myself with some quiet chatter from the radio.

Donald Trump has announced his candidacy as the Republican primary. And later, we will be discussing green buildings and how they end up costing business owners. Gun Control? Meet the NRA member who says he will die for his second amendment right to bear arms. Stay tuned for all these issues and more, on Fox Radio 103.2.

Damn it. I knew that wouldn’t work. I wanted to listen to some music. I am so over listening to current events. I have to shut them out now because there can be no logic found in the way things are. Donald Trump running for president, ha? He will never win.

I finally enter the city. The traffic is bad. I sit at a light for what feels like an hour. I used that time to dive deep into my mind. I shouldn’t have done that. I thought about how I had no money to pay my bills. How when I get my next check, it is already spent, as well as the next three checks. I thought about how Eleanor recently missed her period. How excited that made me. I have wanted kids for so long. Eleanor did not.

I tried to cope with this the best any man could. She didn’t want kids with me. Was there something wrong with me? How would I live my entire life never feeling the joy of creating a smaller version of me? I told myself I accepted it, I was never sure how true that actually was.

Through marriage and life in general, connections are lost. I thought about how many friends I had and how I missed them all so much. I had become a lonely man. I was a bitter man. I was an angry man. Life seemed to have no purpose. Everyday, I go to work at the same time, eat the same things, do the same things. I will die having never experienced happiness. I supposed that I would continue coping how I had always coped, by drinking myself into a pretend state of joy. I was wasting my life. I really could care less. Finally, the damn light changed.

I drove into the parking lot of the company I work for. Knowing it was just another shit day among other shit days. Nothing new would happen today. The building where I work is a larger office complex and it is a banking firm. The office workers are very stuck up. I can’t stand them. They leave their things lying around in all sorts of odd places. One time I found a stuffed Snoopy doll down in a toilet. I finally got into my closet of an office and tripped over a mop bucket. When I got into the office, I changed in to my navy blues. On the desk was a note that said I should check the men’s restrooms on the 21st floor. Chad wrote it. Chad always played games.

I was never sure how Chad got the job with the banking firm. His dad was probably someone who knew people. That kid has never struggled a day in his life. Must be nice. Well, at least I know what hard work is.

I tapped the elevator up button and it lit up. It felt like 10 minutes when the doors finally opened. The 21st floor. Lucky 21. Blackjack. I am in the men’s restrooms. I don’t see anything out of order. Chad is playing his immature games again. Suddenly, I hear a rumble in the last stall.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” I ask.

More rumbling.

“Hey.”

Something bangs the walls.

“Are you alright? I can get you some help if you need it,” I say.

Nothing. I walk closer to the stall and I can almost see through the cracks. Then I hear laughter.

“Seriously, are you okay?” I ask again.

“Help me!” A voice called out.

“How can I help you, sir?” I ask.

“I just took the biggest shit of my life and there is no toilet paper, could you get me some?” Chad said.

Fucking Chad. I hope he was stranded without toilet paper, because I never brought him any. The rest of my day went as normal. I exhausted myself with my hard labor. I would never be like Chad, and I never wanted to be. He thought he was so powerful, but take away his trust fund and his daddy and he was but a weak little man.

I made it back to my office and took my uniform off. The day is over, thank God. When I exited the large building and started towards my car someone approached me.

“Mr. Atwood!” said a short man dressed in a black suit. He accented his suit with a black tie and he wore thick round glasses. His hair was greasy and slicked back, he reminded me of a car salesman. His pale complexion was evidence that he had never been tan in his life. By the way he was dressed, I could tell he was a person superior to me.

I responded, “Who are you?”

“Yes, I do realize you are unaware of who I am. However, I know you very well, probably better than you even know yourself. I am Gerard Andruzzi and I have been sent here to warn you of very unfortunate events that will happen to you soon,” The man said.

The man claimed to know me and not only know me, but know me better than I know myself, what nerves. I was curious about his knowledge of the “unfortunate events”, but I did not want to hear him.

“Well sir, if you will excuse me I have worked all day and I am tired, whatever these events are, I am sure they will happen whether I know they will or I don’t,” I said.

“Very well sir, but if your circumstances become unbearable I will visit you again,” the man said.

Once he said that, he began to walk away. I am just a poor laborer who lives an uneventful life, why would anyone care what events befall me? I got in my car and headed home.

I walked in the door and hung my jacket on the wall. Eleanor approached me before I could shake the day off of me.

“Benji, what is your attitude for?” Eleanor asked.

“I don’t have an attitude, I haven’t said a word,” I replied.

I already needed a cigarette, so I went to smoke. When I am alone, smoking my cancer, I often find myself in deep thought. I found myself thinking of Eleanor.

Eleanor was beautiful; we had been together for fifteen years and married for five of them. She had long blonde hair and her face was highlighted by it. Her body had curves, beautiful curves, the kind most men find attractive. She was beautiful and cared deeply about other people, however, her mind was very much closed and this troubled me more than it should have. Eleanor had perfect teeth and when she smiled they made her all the more pretty. Blue eyes and blonde hair, my perfect woman. My favorite part of her body was likely her more sexual parts; she had a round posterior that was all muscle and her thickness made the rest of her body conform to it. She also had very perky large breasts. What man would not love a woman who had these attributes? The problem with seeking love based on physical attraction when you are sixteen is that the physical parts are not permanent but personality is, I found this out the hard way. I walked back inside and Eleanor motioned for me to sit at the table.

Eleanor looked curiously at me and slightly licked her lips. Her lips then began to move.

“Benji, you continue to worry about things that don’t affect you and you often try to involve me in conversations that have no meaning,” Eleanor said.

She continued to drive my bad mood further in to the ground.

“But, I just have all these thoughts in my head and seeing as how you are the only friend I have, I would love to discuss them with you, but you don’t know how to listen,” I said.

I tried to reason, but reason is out of her realm of acceptable conversation. I figured I would mark up yet another loss and change the subject.

“Eleanor, you will never guess what happened to me today,” I said.

When I told her, she perked up, gossip, of course she would talk about gossip.

“What happened?” She asked.

She became excited to hear information about something negative.

“This man came up to me and told me that he was sent to warn me about some unfortunate events that would occur in my life,” I said.

She was very superstitious so she probably figured that I had inquired about this man’s foresight.

“Oh no!”, she exclaimed, “what events did he say would happen, are you going to die?”

“I did not inquire about what events he knew of, no one can see the future, and don’t you know that psychic stuff is bullshit?” I asked.

Eleanor appeared offended.

“Psychics are real, on TV there is a lady who can tell the audience what is going to happen to them and she is usually right. Besides, even if it is not real, is it not exciting to know what the future might hold?” She asked.

“Yes, the future is an amazing subject to ponder upon, however, I don’t believe that any man or woman can know what that future is like with certainty, therefore psychics are horrible people spreading horrible lies,” I said.

I was starting to become angered at her ignorance.

“Oh, Benji, do you not know how to have fun? what is so bad about a psychic telling people what they want to hear?” She asked.

Of course, she thinks it elementary to be offended by psychics and their “good deeds”.

“People believe psychics are real, that in of itself is horrible, but the fact that these psychics prey upon ignorant people and in turn these ignorant people continue being ignorant is a horrible idea. It is morally wrong to take advantage of people and that is the only skill these psychics possess,” I said.

My rage had peeked and this conversation was just a causal one, however, I could not let her continue to believe that any psychic was innocent.

“Well, anyways, who was this man who claimed to know what events lie ahead of you?” She asked.

“He said his name was Gerard Andruzzi and he said he was sent to me, but not by whom.” I responded.

She seemed to once again get excited in the direction this conversation was heading.

“That is truly mad. How could anyone know what your future will be like?” Eleanor asked.

She missed the irony of her statement, but further proved why my reasoning never gets through to her, a beautiful, but stupid person.

“Exactly,” I said, “That is why I didn’t stay around long enough to hear what he had to say. He did know my name though, which is odd because I never told him,” I said.

“Maybe he really did know your future; you should have heard what he had to say,” she said.

I wonder if she were in my position, if she would have stayed to listen or would she have been frightened away by a weird man claiming to know her. I very well doubt she would have stayed. It was nearing six o’clock, the bells would soon ring, and my stomach began to rumble, Eleanor was an amazing cook, but we had both had a long day and did not feel like cooking.

The entire drive to the restaurant, Eleanor pestered me about the mysterious man, and pondered upon what it was that he knew. I could care less, because this man was obviously insane and no predictions of the future are ever true, especially from a man I didn’t even know.

We have made this drive so often, that we do it with the minimal amount of consciousness. We get on the busy main road and drive over the interstate, up a hill and the restaurant is on the right. The food is cheap and usually bland, but hunger is satisfied no matter the flavor. Inside the restaurant, there were many people, but what was odd this time was that I knew all of them. I live in the suburbs of a large city with all my acquaintances confined to this specific region by birth. It was not supernatural that chance had brought all the people I knew into this one location, but it was highly unusual.

Malachi Wagner and Kyran Sasaki were sitting at one of the high tables having what appeared to be an engaging conversation. Malachi stood about six foot two and was an overwhelming man. Malachi had tattoos covering his arms, making him that more intimidating. He had gauged piercings in his ears and he looked like a man that one might choose to leave alone.

Kyran was a man of similar stature to that of my own. He had the military fade haircut (even though he never served in the military, it was a fad among people our age) and had but one tattoo: A cross on his upper arm that was colored in black tattoo ink, it was not visible today, but I know he had it because I was with him when he got it. A religious man he was not and it was not a tribute to anyone in particular, so I suppose he just got it because he likes the aesthetics of crosses. Tattoos are personal, and I should not expect to understand the reason. These people were my best friends from high school. I had missed them so much and it felt like years since we’ve all talked. This is why it was so odd that I should find these two together in the one place that Eleanor and I spontaneously chose to eat at tonight.

Sitting with Malachi and Kyran were two beautiful women. One was a short brown-haired woman and she wore a dress that was white with yellow flowers. She allowed her cleavage to be clearly visible and it was definitely attractive, eye contact was null when looking at her. She wore glasses and had blue eyes underneath them. The other woman, obviously with Kyran, looked like she was once attractive but one could immediately tell that life had not been very kind to her. She had a beautiful face but it was hidden underneath scars from acne that once rested there. Her hair was black and it seemed as though if one were to run their hands through it and then look at their hand, it would be covered in her black hair. She wore blue jeans with holes in them and a very tight t-shirt that showed her stomach. Her stomach was attractive, it looked soft, and she had her belly button pierced. Eleanor and I decided to be seated with them and strike up a conversation about the past few years we had been away.

When we were in about the 8th grade Kyran and I met through one of our mutual friends. Kyran was more popular than I was so he was my ticket to reaching a social standing in middle school that I could not obtain on my own. School became a much better place, but I still had the occasional bully. Malachi, I met in my sophomore year of high school when I got into the wrong crowd of people. We partied every night and did many drugs. Life remained this way until we were all about 21. We split up and it has been about ten years since we have all been together. It was very odd that we should all meet here after so long, in this shitty restaurant.

We quickly caught up with one another and began to eat our meals. The restaurant was small; there were about ten small tables with four chairs at each. At the counter, there was a cash register and enough room next to it to lay a tray of food. The cashier was rude but that was to be expected at these sorts of establishments.

Malachi talked about how he had been working in the steel industry for the past six years and how much he enjoyed that kind of work. I am a small man so that kind of work was unappealing to me. Given Malachi’s stature, I am sure it is less of a concern. Malachi introduced us to his fiancé.

“This is Octavia Goddard, we met one night in a club. Octavia was on the dance floor and it appeared as though a spotlight landed on her and made her the only one in the club. I checked my nerves and approached her, her eyes caught mine and they spoke to me. I could tell immediately that Octavia was the one, so now we are engaged to be married,” Malachi said.

Malachi spoke with much enthusiasm. He had never had much luck with relationships and I was happy to see something finally working out for him.

“She is very pretty,” I replied.

I meant this as honest as I could be. I was always attracted to almost every woman I ever met that had some sort of beauty. Malachi’s fiancé was no exception. In fact, if Malachi were to be caught off guard and Octavia was willing, I would have her, if only shortly. Yes, I am a dirty man, but it is the cause of my genetics. I had to quickly move past this thought as I was slipping away from the conversation.

Kyran finished chewing his greasy taco for a moment so he could speak.

“This is my girlfriend, Amelia; I met her on a trip to New York City. She was doing hard labor and I discovered her place of work by chance. I could see that she deserved so much more out of life so I asked her to runaway with me. The feeling must have been mutual because she agreed without any hesitation,” Kyran said.

Kyran tended to sugarcoat the happenings of events in his life. The appearance of Amelia suggested something more than hard labor, but I was in no position to question what kind of work she actually did in New York. If that is in fact the place where they had met.

“Amelia is definitely a keeper, Kyran,” I said.

I told Kyran this with zero honesty. Kyran liked to lie about his life; I liked to lie about his life. Amelia appeared to be the type of woman who would be loyal to any man that showed her that he could provide for her.

“Kyran, tell me more about how you two met, if you would be so kind,” I said.

I asked because I was bored, I did not much care for their story. Kyran told me that he traveled to New York to see family and for business. He told me that while walking through the Bronx he came about Amelia, standing outside on a rainy night, looking like she needed someone. The part that Kryan left out, but implied, was that Amelia needed someone who could pay for her company. Kyran then explained how she accompanied him to his hotel in Queens and that after that night they were in love. What I suppose really happened was that Kyran told her he could give her a better life, as I am sure most Johns do, but for some reason, Amelia actually believed Kyran. It’s really none of my business how they met or who she is, I just hope they are and remain happy.

We all finished up our small talk and catching up, put the rest of our food in the trash, and were about to leave the fine taco establishment when the floors began to shake. The pictures on the walls fell to the ground and busted, making an oddly satisfying sound, the sound of coming chaos.

Tables and chairs overturned, crashing to the ground making pinging sounds, adding to the symphony of chaos. Time seemed to slow and seconds felt like hours. In slow motion the door to the restaurant opened and in came the man who knew my fate, Mr. Andruzzi. He seemed scared but at the same time heroic. This brave man came from wherever he came from, in this catastrophe, just to ensure that I survive. I did not know this as fact, but I just assumed it based on the coincidence that he was also here.

Mr. Andruzzi called out to me, “Benji, take this, it will help you and everyone around you survive,” he yelled.

Before I could comprehend what he was speaking of, he tossed me a small chrome cylinder with blue L.E.D’s. It had red buttons on the side of it, but there were too many buttons to chose the correct one. I looked back at Mr. Andruzzi with confusion and he mouthed the words, “It does not matter which button,” before he disappeared in a loud flash and fog. I sit in this building that will soon be rubble with a device from a man claiming to be from the future. The device can supposedly save all of us and all I have to do is push a button. Well, here goes nothing.

I pushed the button and nothing happened. The walls continued to crumble and a roaring fire was coming towards the restaurant. All my old acquaintances and new ones were scared. This was a life or death situation and I had total control over it. Did I have total control over it or did this future man just give me some device that doesn’t work? Is he really from the future? Before I could wonder too long, the device made a rumbling noise that was only slightly different than the chaotic rumble of the world’s end. There was a swooshing noise and all of the sudden everyone in the restaurant was inside of a large clear bubble. It glowed blue and I am sure we were all more scared now, within this alien device, than we ever where in our not unusual, but ending world. I called out to Eleanor, even though she was right next to me I yelled for her, “Eleanor, are you okay?”

“Yes Benji, I am okay. I am scared though, what is happening?” She asked.

I already knew she was scared. Fifteen years with any person allows one to read all of their emotions from the exterior. Eleanor’s eyes were red and her tears were building up. She held onto me tightly as she always does in frightening situations. I could feel the goose bumps rising on her soft skin and her small blonde arm hairs poked into my elbow. Her voice was not trembling, but her body was. I knew I would have to save us all and comfort my wife.

“It feels like the world is ending, but we cannot be one hundred percent sure, as we only know that the location we are currently in is experiencing this situation. This bubble could possibly be some top-secret type of device or it could really be from the future. It is hard to tell which is the better hypothesis. I am sure everything will turn out alright Eleanor, do not worry,” I said.

I tried to soothe her but I could tell my words did little. I called out to Kyran and Malachi.

“Malachi, Kyran, are you guys doing alright?” I asked.

“Benji, I’m not sure how it is that we are in this bubble, watching the world outside of it crumble quickly, but I am glad that we are alive. If it were not for this device, we might all be dead. The restaurant is now non-existent and if we were still in it those large ceiling pieces would have surely crushed us. How are you doing Kyran?” Malachi asked.

Malachi was always so confident in dire straits. He appeared calm but it was hard to tell what he really felt. Malachi, being a masculine male, never let fear reside on his face.

“I would say that I am doing well. Amelia is also doing well. What should we expect to happen next, Benji?” Kyran responded.

I am not sure why I became the authority on this mysterious bubble, but for some reason it was assumed that I knew it. I could feel a faint sense that I did know it, but it was so faint that it was a thought quickly lost. I told my friends the obvious answer, “I have no fucking clue.”

Amelia, Octavia, and Eleanor seemed to gravitate towards each other as the genders tend to do. Our time in the bubble seemed to last forever, so we made the best of it.

“What do you figure will happen once we are rescued from this catastrophe?” Amelia asked.

Amelia asked Octavia and Eleanor as though she thought this was just a normal event.

“I am sure we will be on the news and for a day we will be known as the famous survivors. This here is more severe than some car accident and stranger than a random house fire. There are probably already news trucks lined up outside waiting to interview us,” Amelia said.

Amelia pushed her black hair off of her forehead, smiled, and winked as though she had achieved something by surviving this event.

“Well, I think it will be great to just survive this, I am not really camera ready,” Octavia said.

Octavia wanted us to believe she was embarrassed, but her eyes told us she was excited.

“This is all nonsense, we have yet to survive and they are already out there waiting for us. They can sense blood. The media are predators, waiting for their prey to be damaged by something larger then themselves, then swooping down and taking advantage of them. Vultures, the media are,” Eleanor said.

I was surprised to hear this intelligent thought coming out of Eleanor’s mouth. She had never appeared more beautiful to me. If I did not have to save lives, I would take her right there, in front of everyone.

Right as I felt we were all becoming closer to one another a large flash and bang occurred. I was blinded and could not feel anyone next to me. The sound was deafening and the light was blinding. The bubble had disappeared and the only thing that now existed was whiteness. The white was bright and hollow. It seemed to go on infinitely. I called for Eleanor, no answer. I then called for Malachi and Kyran, nothing.

“Octavia! Amelia!” There was nothing.

I felt the white ground vibrate and heard a sound similar to the humming of a bass speaker. The whiteness began to flicker to blackness, back and forth like a strobe.

I saw a tall figure in the distant, also black so that it would disappear for a second during the blackness. With each flash of whiteness, it appeared closer. I was now more scared than I had ever been in my life. I could feel my heart beating rapidly and my breathing was heavy. It was cold wherever I was, but I was sweating. I wondered if I had died and went to hell, surely heaven wouldn’t be like this. Eventually the figure stood in front of me. It was Gerard.

“Benji Atwood, you have made it. We have saved your life so you can continue to your destiny,” He said.

He made it seem like it was the highest accomplishment of his life.

“You will now proceed to see through to the end,” he said.

“But sir, what has come of my wife, my friends? Are they all right, have they perished in the restaurant? What do you want of me? I demand you answer my questions now, this game that you are playing with us is not funny and when I am free of you I will promptly report you to any and all authorities,” I said.

I was livid. I have seen movies where people kidnap others to play deadly games with them. I did not want to play his game. I would not be the puppet for some deranged master’s pleasure.

“Mr. Atwood, your wife and your friends are all doing well. They are currently undergoing the same process as you are. The only requirement of you is that you complete the task we will assign to you. This is surely not a game and I hope you take it seriously. The events that will take place in the next few days will be hard for you to comprehend, but if you are patient, it will all be explained thoroughly,” he said.

“Just what the hell is this process? Where I am and where is my wife?” I asked.

I was drawing back to punch him square in the face when he interrupted me, unmoved by my anger.

“Sir, the process will prepare you for the world you are about to enter. Your wife is in the next room, being examined in the same manner you are about to be,” he responded.

I suppose I did not have much of a choice so I complied with his summoning of me to a table that appeared out of nowhere.

“Strip,” so nonchalantly he asked of me as though I would have no problem taking all of my clothes off in front of this stranger.

“Fuck you, if you expect me to do that,” I responded.

I was once again feeling the need to physically damage his greasy face.

“I suppose that we were mistaken in choosing you as the savior. We have many tasks to complete and you will not even complete this first minor task. We can still send you to perish in your world along with the rest of them. We will also perish because it is now too late to choose another. We felt it kind to also save your wife and all of your friends, but we will also send them back to perish with you. In this world we do not put up with such extreme non-compliance. I will ask you one more time sir to take your clothes off. I surely hope you will comply because if you do not, I will immediately send you to your fate,” Gerard explained.

This was the first time this man was so stern with me. I still didn’t believe most of what he said, but what if he was really telling the truth? I had the choice between being naked and death. The decision was not that hard with this knowledge.

I first took my shirt off, revealing the many body markings of artwork that I had covered myself in throughout my life. My stomach lacked any muscles but it also lacked fat. I ran daily and tried to keep a healthy diet. I kept my chest hairy because it made me feel more masculine. The next item I removed was my blue jeans. With this step I hesitated, but eventually completed. I was standing there in my black boxer shorts in an infinitely white room in front of a strange man and a mysterious table. I looked at Mr. Andruzzi as though he should be satisfied at this stage of nakedness, however he looked at me unpleased.

I removed my boxer shorts. Standing in front of this strange man, naked with all of my flaws visible to him.

“Lay on the table,” he demanded.

I did not like how blunt and unkind he was in my unnerving situation. I lay on the table. The table was cold like ice, my penis shrunk so much that it felt like it was inside of my pelvis and it was uncomfortable. I did not want to lay here exposed like this. I then could feel a rubbery texture all along my body. I didn’t like this strange man touching me like this, but as I looked it was no longer Mr. Andruzzi next to me, it was a female doctor wearing a lab coat.

This lab coat was unusual. It let her breasts be exposed all except her nipples. I found this odd, yet pleasing. She wore see through under garments and I felt that she could do whatever she wanted with me. I quickly became aroused and tried to hide it. I did not have to try very hard because as soon as I thought of ugly thoughts, my nurse appeared as a hideous creature. The sexy outfit had now turned to rags and the thing wore no lab coat. I laid there in shock but it was quickly over.

“Get dressed. Here are your clothes.” Mr. Andruzzi said.

He removed two white pads from my forehead that I apparently did not realize were attached to me.

“You have been out for 23 hours and our tests are complete,” he said.

“23 hours? But it was only five minutes. There is absolutely no way I have been laying here for that long,” I said.

I knew he was having one over on me. It was obviously only five minutes. I have felt time slip away faster than it seemed before, however it has never slipped that fast or that long.

“Sir, our tests put you under, dig into your mind and make you feel whatever you want to feel. We have to complete these tests in order to understand how strong your mind is. Your wife and your friends have also completed this test. We dig into your conscious and subconscious mind to find out who you truly are. We then use this knowledge to help introduce you to our world. There is a lot to take in and it is of the utmost importance that your mind is capable of handling it,” he said.

“I don’t understand how this place you have brought us can be any different from where you took us. I have seen much of the world and I am sure there is not much that could shock me,” I said.

“But sir, while you may be accustomed to different environments in the world in which you come from, I am sure that you are not prepared to see the world you will shortly be introduced to. The world has become something very different. Welcome to 2386.”