“Ugh. Slop again.” August complained as the thick, mold-green substance slowly slid from the lunch robot’s ladle and plopped onto her tray. She decided not to try to figure out what was actually in it. Then, sighing, she moved up to the desert section. The deserts were barely any better than the entrée, but they at least tasted sweet and didn’t look like they used to be something living. “Cookies please.” She ordered. “Sorry darlin, out.” The machine responded. Sighing softly and giving the machine a quick glare, she said, “Fine. A brownie then.” Either ignoring or completely missing the glare, the lunch robot picked up a thin, beige square and dropped it on top of the entrèe. “Thanks.” August said. She walked over to her usual table and sat down, then started munching on the brownie, which tasted like a sweet, solid brick. When she was only a quarter through, her friend sat down next to her with a chunk of grey cake on his heap. “No cookies today. At least the cake’s ok!” Mike said cheerfully while stuffing a piece of it his mouth, but immediately spit it back out. Chuckling, August ate another nibble and commented, “When do you think we’ll get out of this place and into the real world? I’ve been raised on this awful food and I’m SICK OF IT.”

“Keep your voice down, Auggie! Im sure it won’t be long now! I mean, we are 17, for crying out loud!”

“Well, we’d better be! Why, if I need to spend another dang year in here I’ll…”

“WILL AUGUST HARRISON PLEASE COME TO THE WHITE ROOM.” A loud, robotic voice sounded over the grey speaker. August and Mike slowly turned to look at each other’s eyes.

“Auggie… WHAT DID YOU DO.”

“Mike, I- I don’t know.”