Ralph Lloyd (exquisite corpse tale)

I've been stuck here for months, 6 months to be exact. Still haven't felt any symptoms of this "virus" the foundation put us here for. I guess it would be safe to say I've been extremely bored these past few months, any time I ask for any entertainment the requests just get ignored. So I've just been staring at these bland concrete walls, once foreign to me but now painfully familiar. I stare at the tiny little imperfections and patterns in the concrete, dreaming of future goals and experiences. My only communication has been strictly limited to people behind a microphone asking me the same god damn questions every day "How are you feeling physically?" "Are you in pain?" id be better off talking to a brick wall than talking to these blocks of wood. The only faces I've seen have been the ones passing by my cell, albeit i can hardly make out anything about them because of how scratched up the window is. Everyday has become so familiar, i cant even leave this cell in my dream because all my dreams are starting to take place here. Hopefully theirs some sort of cure or vaccine made so i can just go back to work. I would give anything to just mop a floor already, i mean common, this is just ridiculous. Anyway im running out of room on this info paper they gave me so im just going to stop here.