found drama

Somehow you have managed to cut off all of your fingers with a laser. You haven’t lost the fingers because they are still inside of the Stormtrooper gloves that you’re wearing. So to the untrained eye, it looks like you still have all of your fingers (“…just fine, thank you very much”) but they’re just hanging — dangling there inside of the gloves. You move around the campus, trying to find someone that will help you — an infirmary, a friend, anyone — but no one seems to hear you. (Can they not hear you? Or are they simply not listening? Are they just ignoring you?) You just know that someone can reattach your fingers if you can just get help from them in time. You keep looking. Your fingers keep dangling. You cannot flex them. And no one can hear you.

About Rob Friesel