The Lab

I printed it out. I stamped it with the sole of my shoe. I check the time, my pocket watch ticked: I invented a character to don a waistcoat. I was. Then I am. The rats proceeded through the maze. They found their way back to the cage and a door slotted shut. They were fed. Again, they were rewarded. 

The exit sign lit the hallway red. All the arrows indicated how to move in an emergency. Then changed their minds and direction faltered. My joints creaked. The wheels on the janitor’s mop bucket squealed as he passed. Such a beloved, muddy water. 

I cooked it up like a controlled drug. Like a control. Ingredients mixed and the simmer. The scent. Color came and went. The outcome was good. The results told me what I can confirm. 

Nearby, the river cracked the half-gone light.