Peter stared up at the ceiling. He felt his chin begin to tremble, but he 
didn’t want to cry, so he tried to remember things from his past. He remembered
he liked to drink milk, and for a moment he thought some was available, sitting 
on top of one of the machines, but then nothing was there. He remembered too 
that he went to school. He saw an image of a teacher by a flatscreen, displaying 
notes for a lecture. But he couldn’t remember what he did in school. He learned,
he knew that much. But what did he learn about? Words, numbers, frogs, cells. 
All he could remember were pictures. The rest was gone.