The sky is blue.
It never changes, but I don't need to sleep, so it doesn't really bother me.
I don't think I'm even able to sleep. And wherever I am feels strange.

When I look below me, it's sky. Above, also sky. Around me. Spanning for miles,
probably. I've tried walking as far as I can, and nothing has changed.

The sky has ovals in it. Squared ovals,
more accurately, and these break up into red, green, and blue squares.
I think this is a computer screen. The thought gives me vertigo. And I can't
remember my own name, which nauseates me further.

Not really sure if times stands here, as I haven't seen a clock. No calenders,
numbers, words. So I don't keep track. It freaked me out at first, but maybe
the absence kind of calms me down. This is an empty landscape.
Barren, human-less. At least I remember what those are.
If I bring my hands to my eyes... human, too. Good.
But, again- for the most part, barren.

Except one time, when I stumbled upon a house.

The walls are a warm, sun-bleached wood, with a quaint front porch. A bonnet-style
roof perched above, nicely supported by skinny collumns surrounding the house.
Pleasantly, as I walked closer, the familiar trickle of wind chimes filled my ears.
Varying pothos framed the porch, some baby, some well-loved.

Closer, I noticed colorful beads dangling in front of the uncleaned windows. A dirty "leave-YOUR-
mess- outside-" doormat. Boxes of spare machinery besides it. At the front steps- paint blotches and
weird, dark, stains.

This is my house. This is my house, inside a world that's nothing but sky, inside what's
most likely a computer. I have no name, still, but at least I know I am a leisurely housekeeper.
And messy. And a creative-mechanic-hobbysit of sorts.

Noise. Low and distorted.

I heard it from behind the front door. Sort of if a whale call
got distorted and stretched. There's almost some infidelity that maked it sound crushed, 8-bit.
The sound was groaning, almost like it was choking on something,
and the sensation formed a cold rock in my throat.

Yet, I wanted to hear it clearly.

The door has a square window on it, great for uninvited guests peering in. And as I crept up
the wooden steps of the porch, hands static, I could barely make out a shadow from the other side.

A frantic voice inside me telling me to leave. And it was urgent, too urgent, like
someone was really telling me to run. But my own voice couldn't help it. Trance-like, my
focus was straight through the window. The silhouette of a head was just within view.
Sunken in, teeth beared. It was huge, too. Nothing like a normal human one.

And as it inched closer to me, the light began to hit it's jaw. Note: jaw. Futher up, there
was nothing at all.

The jaw was made of metal and real teeth that were outlined by harsh, black shadows.
Looked like inflamed gums. Upward: rotted, leather skin was outlined by nicely
gathered wires where the nose would be.
Almost as if the thing was manufactured.

There's no upper head. No brain, even. It screamed at me, and its jaw opened
widely, animatronic-like, showing me its kinked spine. An awful sound.
If you took a vaccuum, increased the gain and volume, then put it through
a megaphone. It was so unnatural it was clipping,
making my vision strobe violently.

. . .

Then nothing. Like I had been teleported. Nothing but the sky all around me.

I am a human. I don't know where I am. I have a home. The sky is blue.

This place is human-less. Mind you, human-less. I never said creature-less.

I am not the only one here.

And the sky is blue.

The sky is blue.

The sky is blue.

The sky is blue.

The sky is blue.

The sky is blue.