The Therapy Zone is
where I listen to music, either series of the Pris6ner, it all depends on what
kind of mood I’m in. But when I listen to the soundtracks, I am always
transported subconsciously to The Village. I sometimes take a ride in 147’s
taxi, he likes to give people rides in his taxi, because he likes to drive. And
seeing as it’s only the local service, we’re bound to end up back where we
started.
I don’t have a number. I am a numberless traveller in a
foreign village. And that’s what makes me different. Although I’m told its not
good to be different, best not to stand out from the crowd, the ordinary. There
are Undercovers who would report anyone for being different as soon as look at
them!
But its alright, I can leave
The Village anytime I like. All I have to do is to switch off the music, and
The Village falls from my subconscious mind. Why can’t I switch off the music?
Why are my arms restrained? Take this straightjacket off me someone, I
shouldn’t be here! I am not a citizen of The Village, I want to go home!
“Settle down Three-one-seven. Relax.”
“Three-one-seven, who is this Three-one-seven?”
“You.”
“I am not………….”
“Please spare me, I have heard it too many times.”
“Then let me go home!”
“But you are home Three -one-seven.”
“Home?”
“Yes, home in The Village.”
“I don’t belong here!”
“Then why are you always here?”
“I’m not, well only when I hear the music.”
“Can you hear the music now?”
“No.”
“That is hardly surprising because you are Village. The
Village is all around you. The Village is within you Three-one-seven!”
“No!”
“Yes. And the sooner you come to accept that, the better
for………”
“For you?!”
“For you Three-one-seven. Now I suggest you go out into The
Village, take the guided bus tour. Relax, have a beer or twelve in the
‘Go-Inside’ bar.”
“You are a good man Two.”
“I know, that’s why everyone loves me.”
He remembered leaving the Clinic. He was walking along the
street in the bright afternoon sunshine. He was in The Village, he saw the
people happily going about their daily lives………….
“Here watch out mate!” a voice suddenly called out.
The warning came too late, he didn’t hear the horn, he
didn’t see the double-decker London transport bus, not until it was too late!
“Three-one-seven, what have you been doing to yourself?
Never mind, we’ll soon make you better!”
Be seeing you
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