HESISTANT BEGINNINGS
<<THE FIRST LESSON >>
It’s typically quite temperate on the beginner floor. Cool breezes with no biting chill, that somehow always feel soothing. But, today Faux’s face burned, as if he had been unwillingly thrust into a staring contest with the sun. “I said you win, you bastard,” Faux mutters to himself as he finds the shade beneath a tree at the bottom of a hill. A deep sigh of relief for his deeply synthetic existence. Faux admired that aspect of this prison— that it seemed to capture the simplest pleasures and displeasures of rea