{"id":763,"date":"2011-11-09T00:00:35","date_gmt":"2011-11-09T06:00:35","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/youthculturekilledmydog.com\/yckmdwp\/?p=763"},"modified":"2011-11-11T13:38:14","modified_gmt":"2011-11-11T19:38:14","slug":"we-know-nothing-part-03","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/youthculturekilledmydog.com\/yckmdwp\/2011\/11\/we-know-nothing-part-03\/","title":{"rendered":"We Know Nothing – Part 03"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The lobby of the building was tiny. The size of a small bedroom. There were no chairs for anyone to wait in. No magazines to pass the time. The only furniture was a desk crammed in the corner. A young woman was sitting behind it with a neat stack of papers in front of her. There were no pens. There was no phone.<\/p>\n

“Michael?” She asked without looking up from her stack of papers.<\/p>\n

“No. I’m sorry. I came here with Thomas.”<\/p>\n

I turned around for direction from Thomas but he wasn’t behind me. He wasn’t anywhere. I didn’t see or hear him leave and I swore that he followed me inside. I must have been wrong.<\/p>\n

The woman looked up at me. Her eyes were the biggest I had ever seen. They were an amazing dark brown. I swooned.<\/p>\n

“If you came with Thomas then you MUST be Michael,” she insisted. “Are you really NOT Michael?”<\/p>\n

“I…I don’t really know,” I stammered. “Maybe I am Michael.”<\/p>\n

“Good. Then you are running late, Michael. Please meet with Dr. Pilsen in the next room.” She pointed to a door to my left that I hadn’t noticed before.<\/p>\n

“Why am I here? I don’t exactly understand?”<\/p>\n

It wasn’t just the confusion of names or the way I seemed to be anonymously important but something was getting to me. Something inside of me was off. I noticed my left arm was tingling and for some reason, unknown to me, I had accepted a name that was not my own. Who was Michael? I wasn’t really Michael, was I?<\/p>\n

“Please, Dr. Pilsen is waiting for you…and you’re late.” The woman had the same sharp tone that Thomas had when I talked to him on the street.<\/p>\n

I turned toward the door. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be any trouble.”<\/p>\n

I opened the door. Beyond it’s threshold there was only darkness but still everything seemed very defined.<\/p>\n

I glanced at the young woman once more. “Thank you.”<\/p>\n

“You’re welcome.” She smiled. “Have a nice day.”<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<<Part 02<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The lobby of the building was tiny. The size of a small bedroom. There were no chairs for anyone to wait in. No magazines to pass the time. The only furniture was a desk crammed in the corner. A young woman was sitting behind it with a neat stack of papers in front of her. … <\/p>\n

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