Fiction

The Three Holograms

Nicholas Palisade finds the whole truth visible in a small cell.

The room is empty, except for a small desk in the center with a pair of wire cutters on it, the chair you’re sitting on, and a set of wires that emerge through a single hole in the wall behind you. The wires feed across the floor, then up into the back of your skull at the brain stem.

All you know is this simple room. It’s all you can remember. You glance at the wire cutters from time to time, curious of their purpose, never really correlating the cutters with the set of wires attached to the back of your head.

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