Wyndhams Office

Thomas Wyndham paces around his office, looking for his old note books: there must be some evidence... Later, sits in the middle of the floor with a pile of papers and spiral bound pads and a bottle of wine.

He is momenterily distracted by seeing, in his own handwriting : "When did you suddenly realise that a world that used to be exactly the right size is suddenly too small? And the paint is peeling from the walls". He cannot remember writing this, and he doesn't understand what he intended to express.

Many of the pages have been torn out, and the feint imprints from those pages cause nothing but frustration. The phone rings, Thomas picks it up and a voice speaks.

Voice: I'm trying to contact a Thomas Wyndham

Wyndham: Hm... unhappily, and despite my best efforts, you have succeaded.

Thomas hangs up the phone, and decides that he quite suits his stolen mannerisms: one of the benefits of age. Thomas mumbles:my memory is gone, retires to bed.

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Looking Up
Hotel Foyer
Insect Dream
Reports and Negotiations
The Melanor

decay:activate