[ WP ] : You do n't remember what you do for a living . Literally . You black out for 8 hours 5 days a week and a paycheck appears once per month .

I'm awake. There's that... smell. Again. If you could even call it that. It penetrates the mouth and becomes a taste. Then the hallucinogenic properties turn it into a sight and a sound on top of that. The people behind the glass are all wearing gas masks. It's not even worth thinking about. I just do n't want to be around this shit in the air anymore. 
 
 I step outside, hardly even bothering to glance around the lobby or at the other people standing in it. Do they even count as `` people''? I do n't know what they do to us, but I certainly do n't feel like a person. The line to go inside extends all the way across the street and into the Sleeping Quarters. It's dark outside. It looks like it's been dark for hours already. I'm still feeling hazy and seeing things. Hearing things. 
 
 I turn around to face the building I've just emerged from. The Work. I've never actually seen it before. Or at least not that I can remember. It looks like a giant, ominous metal box, held together with steel rivets and illuminated by The Lights. The Lights... what even are The Lights? They just come down from the sky as far as I can tell. I'm too exhausted to care right now... 
 
 My body aches all over. The world seems to vibrate and change colors around me, but it's all in my head. I look across the road at the Sleeping Quarters. It's just about as ominous as The Work. I do n't care enough to think about it. I just want to eat and sleep. The Mess Hall is just to the right of the Sleeping Quarters. 
 
 I ate so fast I do n't even remember sitting down to eat or what it was that I ate. I stop to vomit with a few others for ten minutes or so on our way next door to the Sleeping Quarters. No one says a word. No one has the energy to say a word. They all need rest. Tomorrow we'll do the same thing over again. I make it into the Sleeping Quarters and push past the mob of others in line to go to work. 
 
 The building has probably ten floors. No one can ever make it up the stairs. Bodies are piled up and strewn about the floor. Some sleeping, some dead. It stinks of excrement and vomit. It's better than the stench of The Work. Much better. I fall over on top of someone else as I try to make my way to a pillow across the room. I did n't need that pillow anyway. Tomorrow will be the same.
