Space Janitor (127) could feel Digger becoming self-conscious, retreating inside his own head. There was a degree of anxiety associated with digging. What the other strays do to him. Space Janitor felt pity but cast it aside. Digger, for better or worse seemed like a happy enough dog. Since he had arrived in the cell, apart from the staring on his first entry, the dog had been cordial, to say the least.
A guard dog entered, holding two dog bowls. At least they were being fed. Treated with a certain degree of respect. The guard dog pushed it through the letterbox shape in the bars then left. It looked as if it was some meat. Where they got the beef worried him. What happened down here? The extent to which there was some form of dread in Space Janitor’s belly.
Space Janitor regarded the food. There were bright red berries in the middle. The beans, along with the ambiguous meat, looked extra disgusting. Space Janitor looked over and saw Digger getting stuck in.
“What is this exactly?” Space Janitor asked.
“What is this?” Digger started, “Oh well sure, it’s everything a dog needs. You got your processed edible carbon, and you have the beans to stop all the voices,”
“Voice, what kind of voices Digger?” Space Janitor was more than a little curious.
“What kind, oh you know, the ones that say all the boring stuff like, why are we doing this, somethings not right here. You know, voices,” said Digger.
“It sounds like you’re talking about thoughts Digger,” Space Janitor responded.
“Whatever you want to call them, go ahead. You know what I call thoughts? A distraction. They’re good for nothing. Don’t you wish you get rid of them?”
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