Test

I’m not sure what I look like; there are no mirrors in this room. There are no distractions at all. There is a desk, a chair and the work which must be gotten through. I stay indoors although I am not sick and brood in quarantined silence. Trips to the bathroom and meals, if deserved, punctuate my internment. I gauge time by the strength of the sun and more recently, the length of my fingernails.

“It is all a test”, I hear suddenly. Turning around I find nothing but a wall, protective and beige, and I exhale a sigh of relief that nothing is there – I haven’t been disturbed.