The Regression Test Is Over

The glassy iteration of my mother's voice appears to have lost its emotional power over me. The electric red hypercube matrix and yellow lines of light begin to shrink, as though being compressed back to their pre-test positions. And then mid-retraction, they disappear abruptly, as if they have simply been turned off. Like a dream. Do old women dream of their electric mothers? I sigh. Dr. D'Améji enters with tablet in hand; he says: "I think that went well"