“They descended from the stars just as we learned how to fly.They were curious about us while we had completed our curiosity.They knew who we were, we knew who we wereThey descended from another star just as we learned how to die.”
You wake up. It is bright. Your sight becomes refined, and objects near and far are in focus. You see a ventilator with lights and numbers moving across its OLED display. There are X-rays on the wall. You look to your left to look closer. The X-ray showed the insides of what seems to be a fracture of the lower right shoulder. You look down and see two x-rays with profiles of the skull. You wonder to yourself:
“Is this me...?”
Your neck starts to hurt; it’s your throat. You realize your throat is sore, and you can not speak. You look to your right. There’s a door. You move your right leg down to the ground onto the floor. Your left leg, still under the sheets, slides off the bed and onto the ground next to your right foot. Your shoulders tighten up as your arm grips the edge of the bed. With a thrust, you stand and walk to the door. You forgot something. Now aching, your knees channel pain throughout your legs into your upper body. You fall.
A table with medical tools helps you to reclaim your balance. As you get to the door, you open it. Outside, you find a lobby circular in shape. A long hallway intersects the lobby, and you proceed to follow it. As you look around, you notice many other rooms identical to the one you woke up in. You think in your head:
“Everything was clean and new.”