Sunday, July 20, 2008

1. Write what you know

(The nameless man with a nearly empty mind finds himself in a nearly empty room. The walks are blank. The only furniture is a plain wooden table and a plain wooden chair. On the table there is a laptop computer. It has been turned on. There is a blank page staring at him. He feels compelled to type.)

Not sure what I'm supposed to do with this thing or who it is that wants me to do it. There's a good chance that I set all this up before I ... blacked out, some time ago. There's an equally good chance I was brought here by someone else, someone observing me ... holding me? Perhaps, if it is someone else, that person is as much in the dark as am I about who I am and why I'm here.

Haven't tried the door yet to see if it's locked. That didn't even occur to me until now. I doubt I could even stand up, let alone walk, if I tried. It's as if I just woke up in this chair, at this desk, ready to write. I vaguely remember waking up a few other times, then going back to sleep.

I don't know how long I've been sleeping. Don't know where I am. Still don't know who I am. I see that I can string words together easily; perhaps I was a writer.

The keyword there is was. Whatever I did before I went to sleep, I don't think I can do it anymore. Not sure I can do much of anything at the moment but sit up, stare straight ahead of me, and type these words.

That'll have to do, for now. It's not much, but it's a start.