Hummus awoke with a start. He looked around at scene that was at the same time both familiar and unsettling. Above his head the bright light – the word ‘sun’ seemed to be relevant though at the moment he couldn’t be entirely sure about anything – appeared to be withdrawing through a hole in some dark grey bubbly things. He strained to find the dusty corner of his consciousness where he was sure a word to describe these things had been carefully tucked but everything seemed cleaned and new and oddly free of angles. Maybe he’d imagined the word ‘corner’ or it applied to something else. Meanwhile as he struggled to get a grip on this vocabulary experience the hole – definitely ‘hole’ and not ‘opening’ or ‘aperture’ – was rapidly closing. Though what did rapidly mean? It felt like he needed something to test it against but since the only other thing that seemed to be moving was the heap of dirty rags to his left, and even in his currently befuddled state the word ‘rapid’ didn’t seem to want to attach itself to the speed with which the… actually they weren’t just rags but rags and two hands. He checked his wrists; he still had two hands hanging loosely at the ends so they weren’t his hands.
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