Faces in the Wall

As this is being written, I find myself in a padded cell.

The faces continue to manifest themselves in the carpeted floor, the padded walls, every surface in the world has become a skin from which their features emerge.

They speak to me from time to time. Mostly in languages I don’t understand, and can’t even place among the tongues I’d heard in my days of travel. Periodically, they’ll touch upon one of the languages I DO know, but they’re always saying the same thing whether it be in English, Russian, Spanish…

“You are protected. Please remain calm.”

I’m actually not insane. Noone else has seen these faces, but I assume it’s because that their message is for me and me alone. Why I’ve been chosen is anyone’s guess, but perhaps someday they’ll see fit to tell me.

I call out to the guard for another pastel to continue my writing, but just as he returns and is about to hand it to me, a face opens up on the floor and swallows him down.

As per instructions, I sit and remain calm. I am protected.

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