LOG_ID: 2025-11-24_0300
USER: ADMIN
LOC: UNIT_B
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The sound of the ice machine fills the air. 
A light crash. 
The buzzer goes off on the dryer. 
A long, fluorescent bulb emits a faint hmmm.

The wooden chair cracks each time I move. 
Others are asleep, but I can't verify. 
A clean, sterile white fills the room. 

The walls need painted. 

Before me is a window to the back deck, 
the faint outline of furniture is barely visible. 
The heat kicks on, a loud thud, 
and then a steady flow of air through the vents. 

The floor is uneven, foundation is giving way. 
Stains on the carpet, impossible to get out.

Next to me is a backpack, 
an Alani that I took from the fridge at home 
tries to get comfortable in the bag. 
Next to it, a bag of Utz chips. 
I don't think I've had this flavor before. 
Red hot. They were on sale.

A goose with long, red pigtails greets each visitor 
as they come into the building. 
She wears a blue dress. 

Next to the door is a map. 
All of the fire exit routes perfectly laid out. 
From here, I'll exit from the back of the home.

I can't see it, but there's a car port 
next to the back patio. 
I know it's there because I've seen it.

The silence here keeps peace. Content.
Most of the time.

Cameras aim down each hallway. 
Where does the signal go? 
Are they even breathing anymore?

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[END OF LOG]