"[redacted]," you say aloud. Nothing seems to happen. You look around the room again. Suddenly, you notice something that wasn't there before.
Sitting on the desk was a book. There was a piece of paper sticking out, marking a page.
You walk over and opened it. The book is apparently a poetry book. You glance at the page that it was open to.
The sweltering heat exuding
from this quite kaleidoscopic jar
has made me very sweaty
while only barely trying
Pretty mediocre poem, you think to yourself.
The piece of paper that had been used a bookmark itself appeared to be a newspaper clipping. You read:
We have records of that man that date back to when he attempted to break a wombat out of a zoo. (Why would he do that? We don't know. Really. Exactly what caused such a queer act has not yet been found, but our partner Kelly J. has conducted some research. We'll get back to you soon.)
You flip it. There was text there, too:
Yesterday, Rep. Gary Zygatex told our reporter that he believed that this issue was of great import to the USA's jurisdictive process. He will do all he is capable of to make sure that the issue is addressed quickly.
You look back at the poetry book, to the other page that had been marked.
i finally did it
but you don't know it
i try to tell you
but you don't hear
i lie here
waiting for relief
the tears start to flow
but i keep them quiet
i'll see you on the other side
you'll dazzle me
hand in hand we'll swing around
and laugh under the starlight
we'll tell jokes as we relax
and pass the time together
wait for me there
until i arrive with you again
What is all this supposed to mean?