Janie and The Gray: Part 3

I stood in the slop line, shuffling two steps at a time toward Delores as she served tepid porridge to my fellow husks of humanity. I held the bowl and spoon in the required position like a good little puppet. Shuffle, shuffle, stop, ladle.

I found myself staring at her — at it. I wondered what was going on inside that bulb-shaped head, behind those tar-pool eyes. Did it enjoy this? Was it living its best life? Had it always dreamed of conquering a distant world so it could make shitty meals? Shuffle, shuffle, stop, ladle.

It showed no emotion. Its mouth was a fixed, lipless slit beneath three nostrils set in a triangle — or what I interpreted as mouth and nostrils. Its taut skin was a uniform plastic gray, completely void of features — not a wrinkle, blemish, or freckle to be found. Shuffle, shuffle, stop, ladle.

An Oil of Olay commercial bubbled out of the recesses of my subconscious. Despite my best efforts to maintain control, I smiled. I actually smiled. It was fucking weird. My cheek muscles burned under the strain. I regained control and surveyed the room. No one had noticed. Victory. Shuffle, shuffle, stop, ladle.

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