High above, the amber eyes of pin lights wink on-off-on-off; a minor distraction in an otherwise sterile environment. The CCTV cameras maintain 24-hour surveillance.
   Languishing inside a glass bubble, Timothy feels the effect of gravity playing heavy on his eyelids; acoustic dampers eliminate external interference and environmental controls sustain an ambient temperature that promotes lethargy.
   “Close your eyes, Timothy, it's time to sleep.”
   To make Timothy as comfortable as possible, the air inside the bubble is dehumidified and purified.
   “Let me out, Timothy, it's time to fly.”
   For as long as he can remember, Timothy's sun has been a 40w light bulb.
   “The night is young, Timothy. Ta-ta for now, dear heart.”
   Motion detectors fail to register Timothy's chi-form as it phases effortlessly through the padded wall of the tranquillity womb.
   “See you later, masturbator.”
   Once outside the confines of the institute, the essence makes a b-line for the bright lights of immorality. Instinctively, Timothy's spirit is drawn to a kindred soul.


                                           

   (Time-lapse View Of The City At Night)

                                          


   “You can wake up now, Michael.”
   Cracks in agonized eyelids admit diffused light. “Huh!” An alien room begins to swim into view. “Where?”
   “You're in a seedy motel room on the east side and you've just murdered a prostitute.”
   “What!” Pale flesh draws back grey flannel sheets. “Jesus Christ!” Through the haze, red eyes focus on the slender torso of a young girl. “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”
   “Did you enjoy her, Michael?”
   “I… I… What?” Her carcass is ice, mouth bound with black insulating tape. “What sort of question is that? I d-don’t remember.” Avant-garde jazz echoes from the space beyond the wall. “I don't remember anything! Oh shit! Oh fucking Jesus!”
   “I don't know why you're getting yourself so worked up, Michael. She was only a -”
   “I can't remember... I CAN’T FUCKING REMEMBER!”
   “I can. She was sweet, tight, must've been new to the game. It's a shame she had to die, but that's the trouble with fresh meat, they just can't stand the pace.”
   “Stop talking. SHUT THE FUCK UP. Who are you? Where are you? TURN ON THE GODDAMN LIGHTS.”
   “There's no point, you won't be able to see me, Michael. I’m the cuckoo in your cerebral nest, the vortex in your cortex, the box of bees inside your head that just won’t stop buzzing. Buzz-buzz-buzzedy-buzz. Do you understand what I'm saying, Michael? Your display is alight but the cell phone is dead. For as long as it pleases me, you're just a puppet and I'm a boy who wants to play.”