“Thom once your eyes have adjusted to the sunlight I want you to tell me what you can see.” The petit woman’s tone of voice told him very little about who he was to her. She was neither warm nor cold, hers was the rational intellectual tone of someone engaged in an experiment. Which made him her rat, looking for the cheese that she’d hidden.

“A maze.”
“I’m sorry Thom did you say a maze? You can see a maze?” She started to lift her recorder up to her mouth to log his response. She seemed intrigued, as if his answer was actually within the parameters of possibility that this experiment allowed.

“No. Not really. No maze.”

Thoms eyes adjusted to the courtyard. It was dusty, and large and the buildings around it looked old. The setting looked like it belonged in an old Clint Eastwood western.

“I see a big dusty courtyard surrounded by a ghost town.”
“Excellent. Do you see anything immediately in front of you?”
“No.”
“A hundred feet in front of you, a small black stand with a box on it. Do you see that now?”