“Never trust a survivor,” my father used to warn me, “until you find out what he did to stay alive.”
– Kurt Vonnegut, Bluebeard
Lights shine in my eyes
There’s the clean smell of tile
And chrome
As three men sit down in front of me
All three Identical
“Do you remember –anything?, anything at all?. “
“Where are you from?”
“Do you know where you are?”
I remember nothing, and can’t help but stare blankly at their faces.
The world outside is white and stripped.
The sky is red and black
They are not of this planet,earth.
But they say there was a war…I wish I could remember.
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