By J.D. Carelli
I lowered my sensory receptors and closed my eyes. For as cramped as the five by five steel elevator was, it may as well have been a garbage compactor. The man beside me had eaten hummus for lunch, I knew it, and the women at the front sighed in tandem with each passing floor. The rest of the elevator’s occupants annoyed me as well, albeit in subtler ways.
When the doors opened on my floor, I squeezed passed the woman as she jabbed at the “close” button until the doors did so automatically. I waited until the elevator had continued on its way before going in. I used the moment to take a cleansing breath, something I had learned from Organics. It was something I found myself doing more and more these days.
I walked quickly through the halls of the forty-second floor, and found Dr. Maxwell sitting in his leather-bound chair. He waved me in. Taking a seat at a similar chair opposite him, I watched as my therapist opened his notebook and wrote the date at the top of the current page. He reeked of tobacco, a fact that concerned me more than it should. [Read more…] about The Pubescent Android