The straps dig into my wrists and ankles. The doctor hums as he sticks the electrodes on my head. His face is hidden under a grimy mask and greasy hat. Only his eyes, wild with glee, peer out from underneath.
“Shall we get started?” he sings. His voice seems familiar...
“Listen Doc,” I cry, wrestling against the straps. “There’s no need for this. I swear I feel better.”
The doctor leans over, pulling down his mask… and to my horror I see my own hideous face grinning back at me.
“Oh, but the doctor knows best…” I giggle to myself.
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="4BR, 3BA Smart Home - Live Clutter Free by Greg Clumpner"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="And the Earth Shall Give Up Its Dead by Kristin Lennox"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Reunited by Darlene Holt"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="No More Littering by Arvee Fantilagan"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>