The Employees

by Olga Ravn

When did the dreams begin? It must have been after the first couple of weeks. In the dream, all the pores of my skin are wide open, and I see that in each one of them there’s a tiny stone. I feel I can’t recognize myself. I scratch and scratch at my skin until it bleeds.

I have had a haunting dream just like this but with spikes.. Wow never seen another depiction

oak. Tell me, did you plant this perception in me? Is it a part of the program? Or did the image come up from inside me, of its own accord?

but I know that I’m living. I live, the way numbers live, and the stars; the way tanned hide ripped from the belly of an animal lives, and nylon rope; the way any object lives, in communion with others. I’m like one of those objects. You made me, you gave me language, and now I see your failings and deficiencies. I see your inadequate plans.

I know you say I’m not a prisoner here, but the objects have told me otherwise.

He said: “You’ve lots to learn, my boy.” An odd thing to say, seeing as how I was made a man from the start.