Personalism

Word puzzles, filled in two sets of handwriting.

Bottled water, meal bars, wipes. Supplies for an extended stay.

A phone line advertising itself with genuine girls.

Nothing can be seen through the opaque glass of that narrow window, but you know exactly what's on the other side: a cramped, dirty…

Handwritten reports, all ear-marked. Lonely nights down here.

Chip grease smeared on chins, then sleeves.

A photograph of a huge white cat.

This cat's furniture is nicer than yours.

Iron Petal IV was playing on the television -- our heroine finally had Johnny Khasm at her mercy on the peak of Mount Raa. Karolina's foot…

PSEUDOPOD, you presume.

Side by side seating to increase communal spirit.

The wind combs through yellowed grass. Around you, old foundations and half-built walls lean crooked against the sky.

A weather-worn building looms over you, its back to the road. Yellow-beige plaster peels like parchment, exposing old brickwork.

The milliner berates her apprentice, voices raised in frustration.

A cartoon dinosaur announcing, 'Aya turns five! Come play!' next to a smudged address.

A blurry photo of protestors hurling bricks. The headline: 'NESTOR MUST GO.'

A workman's hammock, for hidden naps.

Blooms nurtured by affection and regular pruning.

Someone has vandalised someone else's vandalism.

He's polished the glass framing these degrees and awards.

Photographs, postcards, prayers. Vying for the heroes' blessing.

Here's a box for an electric bidet with built-in seat warmer.

'Swimming lessons w/ Paulo', 'Bin day is now BIWEEKLY', 'PARAKEETS 4 SALE'

The question before you is the same one that obsessed Operant PROBABLE during the period of their precipitous decline.

A Mircean background makes you a natural for in-theatre work across the Developed World.

Does it make you feel powerful? To live so many lives in sequence and in parallel?

It doesn't have to be so hard. You wrestle with the guilt, the shame. But if you just said 'the world did this to me' -- some of that…

It all comes down to you, Repentful Spy. Ninety-six years of human suffering -- most of which you weren't even alive for -- it's time…

Absolute hostility on behalf of the infiltrator must be presumed. It is the only sane approach.

News from the crash site: Recovery crews have pulled a scorched orange box from the wreckage.

It's time to begin. Turn the scalpel inwards and then peer into the orifice you have made.

Muscle and metal, a compromise at your centre.