"Who are you?" Jim demanded.
The woman looked down modestly. "I'm to clean your apartment, sir. Would you like your bed made as well?" She had a bit of an Eastern-European accent. She leaned forward to show off even more of her bosom.
"Please -- can you just tell me where I am??"
"You're in the Village, of course, sir." She began unfastening the top of her uniform. Odd idea of 'cleaning', Jim thought.
"But where is the Village? What country is it in??"
"I'm afraid I don't know, sir. People come here from all over." She began twisting her hands together nervously. Jim's questions were ruining the mood she was trying to create. "If you would rather, I can come back later."
"Why won't you answer my questions?"
"Questions are a burden for others, sir, and answers a prison for oneself. I can see you're still feeling out of sorts, so I'll come back to-morrow." She began fastening her clothes again.
"Wait -- "
"Be seeing you, sir." And she walked out, the door opening and closing automatically behind her.
Elsewhere, in a monitoring room, someone said, "Well that didn't go very well, did it."
Sun Jul 25 15:00:22 1999