The Pocket Watch Problem
β¦ Note: This is a story, not a trance. Read consciously. β¦
β¦ α α¨ α· α β¦
The room goes quiet.
Someone suggests a visual induction.
A pocket watch.
Of course.
The chain glints.
Is that steel or polished metal?
If itβs heavy, his wrist is going to hurt.
Pendulum speed depends on where you hold the chain, you know.
Physics.
Basic.
Do people still fall for this?
Oh.
They stopped talking.
Wait.
Theyβre gone.
How long has it been like this?
That watch looks like the one from Fullmetal Alchemist.
Did he buy it or was it a gift?
Do hypnotists keep their watches in drawers like dentists keep tools?
Is there a collection?
Heβs still swinging it.
Okay, now heβs not.
Good.
His hand must be tired.
Am I helping by breathing slowly?
I should breathe slowly.
In through the nose.
Out through the mouth.
Is my internet lagging or is his handβ¦
weirdly out of focus?
Should I blink?
Not blinking is a thing, right?
Or is that a myth?
Nope.
Nothing.
No sinking.
No warmth.
Not even relaxation.
Just me.
Fully awake.
Surrounded by statues.
Everyone else in trance.
And Iβm sitting there, mentally reviewing the pendulum like itβs an artifact in a museum,
wondering if the lighting is doing it justice.
The induction didnβt fail.
It just never stood a chance.
β¦αumeααβ¦
