A cloud communiqué reached, a very still Ruth.

“Hi, I’m Poppy! Are you OK? You are not counting? Are you sad? We should count together sometimes! …”

It went on, but didn’t contain what Ruth was looking for. What did she have to do to get this mad little cloud of counting chaos to show her how to form her own cloud speech? She decided to wait it out, some questions needed answering right now. She would most definitely not touch or interact with the glowing gateway unless she knew what it did. Not being able to speak frustrated her beyond words.

Poppy detached another cloud communiqué.

“I’m Poppy, you are Ruth, I have counted that. I love counting. You want to speak, I have counted that. Hi, I’m Poppy! Just come with me through the gate and all will be accounted for! Trust me, I’m Poppy!”

“Hell no” Ruth thought. But Poppy had already started to move. In a fancy swirl, Poppy grew in size, enveloping her, and threw them both into the gateway.

It turned out the gate was not a way to a place, but rather a sort of transformation. Ruth felt herself change, turning into something that resembled her original body, albeit just in a digital form. Her vision narrowed as her anthropomorphic personification gained its eyes. She still wasn’t real, but it felt remarkably close. Then she fell asleep, and dreamt of swirling clouds, blood, and revenge.

When she woke up, she had no way of telling how much time had passed since the gateway. She opened her eyes and found herself, much to her astonishment, in an unremarkable room. She lay in a bed, there was a bedside-table with daisies in a vase on it. Light shone through a high window, and the smell of freshly baked bread and orange juice teased her nose.

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In the door stood a woman, dressed in white. Ruth knew instantly she had to be a doctor by the stethoscope around her neck.

“Am I dead?”

“No, Ms Teuling, you are not.”

“Then where am I?”

“Nowhere in particular, Ms Teuling.”

“So I am dead?”

“In a way, yes.”

“In a way?”

The Doctor shrugged.

“It is not important what you are for now, Ms. Teuling. You think, therefore you are. What you are is something you will find out yourself, eventually. It is not for me to tell you what you are.”

Ruth thought for a bit, then sat up, straightened her back and faced the doctor.

“Who are you, and what have you done to me?”

“You know who we are, Ms. Teuling, we have a contract, you remember?”

Ruth frowned, she focused, and yes? There might have been a contract? She wasn’t sure, though, and it made her feel uneasy, had she always been so forgetful? She couldn’t say.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Teuling. Your Memories will come back to you, it will just take some time. Why don’t you have breakfast for now? I am sure you will feel much more comfortable after a nice cup of coffee.”

With that the nameless Doctor glitched, like a reflection in a breaking mirror, then she was gone.