I wish I knew. The circumstances of my arrival here are still horribly vague in my mind. I seem to have suffered a form of memory loss, and wander through each day in something of a haze, recalling only snatches of my past life in dreams and whispers of memory.
But try not to feel too sorry for me. I have become quite fond of the crevice I call my own. I have my own blankets, and a lamp, along with plenty of books to read by its light. I have a tame, furry cave sprog too, of course, and so it quite a cosy little nook all told.
That’s what life’s about, isn’t it? Carving out our own little crevices of comfort in the great dark cave of reality, keeping a warm fire of companionship burning, and enjoying the light for as long as it lasts?
The oogazoids do not treat me too badly – they need me, after all, to order their collections for them, and keep each book in good condition (this is no small task when you consider the constant trails of slime each oogazoid creates as they read). I have even made some friends from among their number, as well as among the untold numbers of alien races that are also kept as captive librarians here. Even after all these years I have not yet met another human. Am I the only one here, or is the library simply so large that the others kept here never cross my path?
No matter how comfortable I may have become here, however, I am determined to escape, and piece together the fragmented memories of my past life.
Horace, the oogazoid who smuggles out my parcels of communication for me, has assured me that a supply line has now been established with Earth. ‘Andrew Cain’ is our contact on the surface, responsible for compiling and disseminating my writings along with the library material I send through. Through this I hope the message of my my plight will spread, and someone, somewhere, may be able to help me.
But until then I must look after myself. Plans are in motion, and each day I hope to find, on a forgotten shelf somewhere, the story of my own life.
If I ever escape, the means by which I did so will be written in those pages. I must try to find them. Even if the pages show that I never escape the library, I must know.
One way, or the other.
The Oogazoid Library 