An Unfortunately Timed Glimpse Into the Life of Unit N

Commence Laundry management cycle #01-a.

Standing next to a bed, the bed in which he sleeps. Recently laundered articles of clothing piled for processing. Creasing one article of clothing in his habitual way, he wonders that there may exist better functions by which to achieve an appreciably smoother crease, and more rewarding locations for such creases to be more efficiently creased. Is there some capacity for form of crease increasement?

Laundry management cycle #01-a completed.

This is Mozart. Micromanaged disturbances of benign air pressure instigate the vibration of some outwardly sensitive aspect of his body. This is air conditioning.

Aligning folds with only ten fingers. Shirt surface area requires at least 15 fingers of average length, or at least some subset of finger lengths that averages lengths to support such a claim. There is a habitual, sickly precision by which the once future fold achieves its semiperminance as the concept it is being consider as. Is there a better way to achieve a better fold?

Laundry management cycle #01-b completed.

Piano empathizes with the plight of the strings, such a bond is formed that in this moment to be broken would devastate a concept of willfully imposed greatness he could only begin to understand the ramifications of should he ever come to possess such a capacity for pianic comradistic empathization. Only then, as mentioned, should what was mentioned occur.

Commence Laundry management cycle #02-a

Crease.

This is not necessarily the preferable crease development process.

Fold.

This is not necessarily the preferable fold development process.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

...

Repeat.

Leaving the recently processed, but less recently laundered clothing to weigh down his blanket with all the might of thoughtfully folded clothing. Such an achievement deserves reward. Such an achievement was necessary. Achievement of necessary is reward. There is no direction, only well conditioned atmosphere, subtly breaking the air pressure tide for ease of transition from physical location to physical location, a brain signaling safety by deciphering the calculated organization of his glorified kennel. This is the superior configuration of interactive gaseous particles for the moment.

Commence laundry management cycle, some number.

A subtle heart palpatation, anxiety before the mind can comprehend, the realization in a moment of some established bodily unease. He is failing. He has failed. Folded disfigured heap of limbs and torso, as though a technique uncovered allowing for the pivoting forward around the toe was successfully tested and demonstrated by his face's proximity to the grout between the tiles comprising the floor. Mentals processing, but the habit to fold has not granted capacity for unfolding. Something occurs in the mind, something he can't seem to remember. Something hadn't really occurred at all, nothing had ever occurred.

Repeat.

Piano notes amble, and then they skip, and then they're tearing through the room as a rain of well-fletched arrows, strings tied upon and tailing as lead by design and not desire. LED glaring redly forward, with the unassailable discipline of vulgar aristocrats' morally upright honor guards.

Folded stack, folded heap. Senile soundtrack, Red LED.