<aside> <img src="/icons/add_lightgray.svg" alt="/icons/add_lightgray.svg" width="40px" /> The lady.

</aside>

<aside> <img src="/icons/add_lightgray.svg" alt="/icons/add_lightgray.svg" width="40px" /> "I'm sorry to hear that," you say and hope that you didn't bring up a sore subject.

"It's ok," she says. "I still find ways to keep up the old work." As she speaks, your head starts to swim a bit, and the edges of your vision start to blur.

Maybe I'm just hungry,

you think.

"Oh, yeah? What work?" you ask, shaking away the weird feeling in your head. But that doesn't help. In fact, your head starts to feel worse. And... heavy somehow.

"Oh, I love to work with the human body," the old lady says, smiling wider until you can see every single one of her yellow teeth. "Unfortunately, the hospital didn’t see my work for the art it was, and they fired me."

"The human body?" you echo, but your voice sounds far away and sluggish. You look down into your cup and see the remnants of some fine powder at the bottom of your cup, and you don't think its sugar. The room starts to slip away as you realize you've been drugged, and the cup falls from your hands, shattering into pieces.

"But you'll understand my art, won't you? You'll be newest subject!" the old lady asks, still rocking in her chair with that wicked grin.

</aside>

<aside> <img src="/icons/arrow-right_lightgray.svg" alt="/icons/arrow-right_lightgray.svg" width="40px" /> Try to run.

</aside>

<aside> <img src="/icons/arrow-right_lightgray.svg" alt="/icons/arrow-right_lightgray.svg" width="40px" /> Succumb to sleep.

</aside>