You are in a room with Michael.
Michael is staring into your eyes.
His lips part.
He speaks the sweet, golden words.
"But... what are, eyes?"
His head tilts slightly downwards, and to the left.
His eyebrow raises slightly.
He gestures with his hands.
He goes on a tangent about eyeballs...
...and mentions how they contain vitreous humour
He stares into your eyes.
"But... what *is* vitreous humour?"
His eyebrow raises further.
The skin begins to split.
His smile widens.
He gestures wider.
He goes on a tangent about bodily fluids.
Including spit.
He stares into your eyes.
"But... what is, spit?"
His eyebrow raises further.
The skin snaps grotesquely.
His smile widens ever further. It reaches his ears now.
His bald head glistens softly in the light.
His gestures reach the walls now.
You ask him if he feels pain.
His smile widens.
It reaches his scalp now.
"But... what **is** pain?"
His eyebrow is no longer connected to his face.
It has ascended.
Both literally and metaphorically.
His smile is no longer a smile.
It is a gash in his face.
The bone is exposed.
He stares into your soul.
His jawbone shifts uneasily.
"But what is bone?"
he asks.
You weep softly.
His gestures puncture the wall now.
You ask, again, if he feels pain.
He goes on a tangent about how pain is related to nerves.
You feel it.
Deep within you.
"But... what are, nerves?"
He is a skull now.
You are no longer within a room.
You are in a void.
There is only you.
A skull.
And an eyebrow.
Floating softly above.
He grins.
"But what is... void?"
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