Narrative: Six Minutes From Now

lo-fi, experimental electronic, industrial, mechanical, field recording, dark ambient, cinematic sound design, industrial drone, pop-rock, upbeat, male vocals, glitch hop, idm, glitch, sound design

STUDIO

The archive is supposed to be automatic after midnight.

I only came down because a printer wouldn't stop.

It had been running for nearly an hour,
feeding blank sheets onto the floor.

At least...

I thought they were blank.

(I should've left them there)

The first page had my employee number.

Underneath it:

ARRIVAL CONFIRMED.

Then a time.

Six minutes from now.

I checked the clock above the elevator.
Checked my phone.

Same time.

I laughed,
because there wasn't much else to do.

(very funny)

Then the elevator opened behind me.

Nobody came out.

The next page printed while I was reading the first.

LEFT HAND ON CABINET.

My hands were in my pockets.

I kept them there.

Another sheet came through.

CABINET OPEN.

It wasn't.

Then something clicked across the room.

Cabinet fourteen had released its latch.

(no...)

I walked over without touching it.

Inside was another stack of paper.

Every page had my employee number.

Every page was dated tomorrow.

I started reading from the bottom.

LEFT HAND ON CABINET.

ARRIVAL CONFIRMED.

ELEVATOR OPENS.

Then earlier entries.

Things I'd already done.

Things from this morning.

Things from last week.

One page described me standing in my kitchen,
looking for a spoon I'd dropped.

Nobody was there.

Nobody could have written that.

(I never told anyone)

The printer started again.

One page.

Then another.

I stopped reading them.

That made it worse.

Because the machine began printing faster.

I could hear the pages landing behind me.

One.

Two.

Then more.

I looked at the newest sheet.

SUBJECT REFUSES TO CONTINUE READING.

Below it:

SUBJECT WILL TURN PAGE OVER.

I didn't.

(don't)

I didn't.

(don't)

My fingers moved anyway.

There was only one sentence on the back.

ARCHIVE COMPLETE.

The printer stopped.

Every cabinet released at once.

I expected them to be full.

They weren't.

Each drawer contained a single sheet.

Twenty-one drawers.

Twenty-one identical pages.

I pulled one out.

Then another.

Same employee number.

Same date.

Same sentence.

Except the last drawer.

That page said:

ARRIVAL CONFIRMED.

And underneath it...

a time.

Six minutes from now.

The archive is supposed to be automatic after midnight.

I only came down because a printer wouldn't stop.

It has been running for nearly an hour,
feeding blank sheets onto the floor.

At least...

I think they're blank.

(I should leave them there)

2420/7500

The archive is supposed to be automatic after midnight. I only came down because a printer wouldn't stop. It had been running for nearly an hour, feeding blank sheets onto the floor. At least... I thought they were blank. (I should've left them there) The first page had my employee number. Underneath it: ARRIVAL CONFIRMED. Then a time. Six minutes from now. I checked the clock above the elevator. Checked my phone. Same time. I laughed, because there wasn't much else to do. (very funny) Then the elevator opened behind me. Nobody came out. The next page printed while I was reading the first. LEFT HAND ON CABINET. My hands were in my pockets. I kept them there. Another sheet came through. CABINET OPEN. It wasn't. Then something clicked across the room. Cabinet fourteen had released its latch. (no...) I walked over without touching it. Inside was another stack of paper. Every page had my employee number. Every page was dated tomorrow. I started reading from the bottom. LEFT HAND ON CABINET. ARRIVAL CONFIRMED. ELEVATOR OPENS. Then earlier entries. Things I'd already done. Things from this morning. Things from last week. One page described me standing in my kitchen, looking for a spoon I'd dropped. Nobody was there. Nobody could have written that. (I never told anyone) The printer started again. One page. Then another. I stopped reading them. That made it worse. Because the machine began printing faster. I could hear the pages landing behind me. One. One. Two. Then more. I looked at the newest sheet. SUBJECT REFUSES TO CONTINUE READING. Below it: SUBJECT WILL TURN PAGE OVER. I didn't. (don't) I didn't. (don't) My fingers moved anyway. There was only one sentence on the back. ARCHIVE COMPLETE. The printer stopped. Every cabinet released at once. I expected them to be full. They weren't. Each drawer contained a single sheet. Twenty-one drawers. Twenty-one identical pages. I pulled one out. Then another. Same employee number. Same date. Same sentence. Except the last drawer. That page said: ARRIVAL CONFIRMED. And underneath it... a time. Six minutes from now. The archive is supposed to be automatic after midnight. I only came down because a printer wouldn't stop. It has been running for nearly an hour, feeding blank sheets onto the floor. At least... I think they're blank. (I should leave them there)

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