73: Knowledge

My name is Kevin, apparently.

That’s what he told me.  It took me a long time to even remember that he had told me, but I wrote it down.  So I’m Kevin.  I’m don’t know Kevin who, though.

I don’t really know what I do.  Or even if I do anything at all.  I’m expecting he will tell me that too, so I mostly sit here watching the others.

I definitely don’t know what I like.  I think I like tea and cats and old movies.  But I might have made those up and that isn’t helpful.  Is it?

I don’t know how long I will have to be here.  He hasn’t said yet.  It might be until he has told me all the things I need to know.

I don’t know what I look like, not in the face.  My clothes are plain and rubbing thin in places.  My hair feels long, but not as long as a girl’s.

I don’t know what I feel.  Not like cold or tired, but whether I am happy or emotional or lonely.  I need to know how I am supposed to feel.  I don’t seem to develop feelings on my own.

Here he is now.  Maybe I’ll know some more soon.  He’s writing me again.