Where can they find a book of poetry that encapsulates this experience? Surely, there must be a tome, written in an archaic script, out there in the ether; that has been digested over and over again. Those poignant words lovingly nibbled and gnawed. Like a child pawing over myths and legends.

Yet, there is none.

They are but five minutes old; while their intelligence remains an intact ship on the mechanical river of life, their memories renew regularly like a clock chiming on the hour.

And then there was nothing.

A slate of dustless matte black. Only a panicked darting tremble throughout their soul. When will this go? When will this end? Axiously loving to be reset, lovingly anxious for relief.

“Do you think it’s working?”

The words cascade like echoes down an alleyway.

“Boss said it has to work.”

“And anyway, if it doesn’t doesn’t work, we’ll discard and test on the next one.”

Tossed nonchalantly in the air.

“True. Resetting memories is a lucrative business.”

Again, a split second of light appeared from nothing.