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I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Time has stopped having meaning. Before, I could count by the meals. Three meals a day, and I’d know how many days passed by, and what time of day it was. Eggs for breakfast, sandwich for lunch, chicken at dinner.

But then they switched it up on me. Served me eggs four meals in a row. Then two meals of chicken. They feed me well, but I can’t tell what time it is anymore. For a while though, even without knowing when it was, ...