As Told to Colin Raff
Whenever he lost consciousness, a chime would sound and a slot opened, allowing us access to the room. The ventilation rate sensor triggered the projector to bathe his face in footage of itself from previous years. With every new sequence, the revolving tray would replace one of his four “cardinal aromatic plants” with another. It all took more time than the accelerated films would suggest.
His stated purpose varied between simply “drifting past the curtain of Somnus” (which more likely occurred when he wasn’t encumbered in this manner) and recreating Wilfred Archbairne-Quelleck’s incident with the “gazelle mask” (though I can’t imagine why). I remember the very faint but lingering smell of chloropallidol, the coarse but expensive material of his striped pajamas. No one saw him write anything down. I don’t think any good ever came out of this.