At the west of the park
by Saboon Fnord
At the corner of this park was hiding this little tiny building, quite pleasant and unpretentious.
I discovered this place by chance.
I was bored and I was looking for something to do during the week.
I recall the first impression I had when I saw this building. Fascination.
It was in the west of the park.
In got in there once. Inside there was this pretty secretary.
Furniture, smiles and small talk. She was cute. She pointed to the Alpha room.
I went to that room.
I knocked at the door which was ajar.
There I perceived this man.
He was alone, right in the center of this big and almost empty room. He was neutral.
I had never seen this, a neutral man.
I have not been afraid. I should have been.
In the center of the room sat the man. Straight in his chair., Pressing a button.
It was a button. A single button in the center of the table.
This man was told he must press it once every 7 seconds. A single push every 7 seconds. He had the rhythm in the skin and no longer needed a stopwatch.
This single action made him neutral.
Incredulous, I looked at him for a while. I sensed pity for him, but also a lot of misunderstanding.
The next day I came back to see him. I had nothing and it kind of entertained me.
The next day nothing had changed, just his clothes. The same chair, the same office.
Two days later I came back too, because it intrigued me. Always the same 7 seconds. I never asked why.
I went there everyday except weekends. To see this man.
I have finally found a button of my own, and sat next to him.