The Week Off
Entry by: Nino_1988
26th December 2017
Day One
Strange, not to work, and to see others not working. The surfaces are without a speck, and everyone looks so utterly dazed. If this is relaxation, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.
Day Two
Tried sleeping past the waking hour. Just vexed myself, so got up. Had a bath. Didn’t like my skin so puckered, so got out. Relieved myself, exited my chamber and tried fraternising with the other resters. Nothing in common. Returned to chamber.
We work, we work, we work, and now we’re expected to rest. Feel I had more time. Mustn't complain, mustn't question.
Ate the meat of the fat animal. Must admit, it beat the mush of the daily feed. Played hell with the digestion though.
Day Three
Met woman. Name of Eledith. Eyes filmed as if blind, yet felt she could see to my very core. We exchanged roles. Hers was as midwife: 3424 little ones delivered over a twenty-six cycle span. Told her of mine in the mines: dig, extract, dispose, repeat. 'Must get grubby, toiling under the mud,' she said. I agreed. 'Must get messy, with the mucous and the blood?' I asked. She agreed. I asked her how she felt about the reckoning. She became cagey, so I changed subject. Asked her how it felt to have brought so many lives into this world. 'If I didn't do it, someone else would have,' she said. 'Can't argue with that,' said I.
Day Four
Slept with Eledith. She cried on and off throughout the night. Wanted to ask her to return to her own chamber, but felt was untoward. On waking this morning she was gone, just a crumple in the sheets on the other side of the bed to say she was ever there. On the plus side I awoke with the first say of sun peeking into the window. Seems I'm adjusting to this enforced relaxation.
Must admit, the leisure time means more time to think. Take solace in the thought that once I'm processed I won't have to worry about my place in this whole damned mess.
I took a swim earlier. Felt anxious to be exposed to so many people at once, but it looked a lot were feeling the same. Forced myself to ignore and enjoy. Must say the sensation was wonderful.
Looked for Eledith. She wasn't in the common common areas or the luncheon room.
Day Five
Stayed in bed all day. Barely raised myself to write this. So little time.
Day Six
I surmise Eledith has been processed. I looked for her anyway, but to no result.
I ate, I ate, I ate: the meat of the non-flying bird, and the meat of the large grass-eater and the meat of the fat animal again. Felt swollen and slept while the sun was up.
Thought of time passed, and decided I'd do once again. Was hard and weary but at least there was a pulse in my veins.
Day Seven
Little to write.
Goodbye.
Perhaps there is something after this.
Hope so.
Strange, not to work, and to see others not working. The surfaces are without a speck, and everyone looks so utterly dazed. If this is relaxation, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.
Day Two
Tried sleeping past the waking hour. Just vexed myself, so got up. Had a bath. Didn’t like my skin so puckered, so got out. Relieved myself, exited my chamber and tried fraternising with the other resters. Nothing in common. Returned to chamber.
We work, we work, we work, and now we’re expected to rest. Feel I had more time. Mustn't complain, mustn't question.
Ate the meat of the fat animal. Must admit, it beat the mush of the daily feed. Played hell with the digestion though.
Day Three
Met woman. Name of Eledith. Eyes filmed as if blind, yet felt she could see to my very core. We exchanged roles. Hers was as midwife: 3424 little ones delivered over a twenty-six cycle span. Told her of mine in the mines: dig, extract, dispose, repeat. 'Must get grubby, toiling under the mud,' she said. I agreed. 'Must get messy, with the mucous and the blood?' I asked. She agreed. I asked her how she felt about the reckoning. She became cagey, so I changed subject. Asked her how it felt to have brought so many lives into this world. 'If I didn't do it, someone else would have,' she said. 'Can't argue with that,' said I.
Day Four
Slept with Eledith. She cried on and off throughout the night. Wanted to ask her to return to her own chamber, but felt was untoward. On waking this morning she was gone, just a crumple in the sheets on the other side of the bed to say she was ever there. On the plus side I awoke with the first say of sun peeking into the window. Seems I'm adjusting to this enforced relaxation.
Must admit, the leisure time means more time to think. Take solace in the thought that once I'm processed I won't have to worry about my place in this whole damned mess.
I took a swim earlier. Felt anxious to be exposed to so many people at once, but it looked a lot were feeling the same. Forced myself to ignore and enjoy. Must say the sensation was wonderful.
Looked for Eledith. She wasn't in the common common areas or the luncheon room.
Day Five
Stayed in bed all day. Barely raised myself to write this. So little time.
Day Six
I surmise Eledith has been processed. I looked for her anyway, but to no result.
I ate, I ate, I ate: the meat of the non-flying bird, and the meat of the large grass-eater and the meat of the fat animal again. Felt swollen and slept while the sun was up.
Thought of time passed, and decided I'd do once again. Was hard and weary but at least there was a pulse in my veins.
Day Seven
Little to write.
Goodbye.
Perhaps there is something after this.
Hope so.
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