.001
[the Weighted Companion Cube is in the doorway of its room, as if someone had dropped it off as luggage. Beside it, a journal lay open, printed words silently appearing as if there was an invisible typewriter typing away with each inanimate thought.]
...Where am I?
Where did the fire go?
I do not understand.
...Where am I?
Where did the fire go?
I do not understand.