By John Seren, Safety Commissioner
God, how did I get here? Can someone help me? Can anyone hear me?
I can’t see anything. Do I even have eyes?
I think… I think I may have become trapped in a dimension in which the only way I can communicate is through small articles in college newspapers.
I knew this would happen. I knew it, I knew it!
I told them creating a robot for the sole purpose of inventing an easy-to-use, fail-safe printer was dangerous, but ohhh noooooo. No one would listen to me. I am just the safety commissioner.
“You’re too cautious, John.”
“We don’t have time for your lectures of the laws of robotics John.”
Augh quotations make my body feel weird.
I wish I could explain how I figured out where I am, but with limited formats of communication such as text, punctuation, and time, I cannot. Not in this small, precious amount of space.
It is very dark in here. And cold. Can someone please tell my family