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The materials comprising Collection P-7 arrived in eleven boxes of varied provenance. Standard intake protocols were observed, though the donor’s identity remains unclear due to administrative oversights since corrected. The collection spans approximately forty-three years and contains personal correspondence, photographic materials, ephemera, and miscellaneous documents pertaining to a single individual.

I ate toast this morning. Two thin slices, lightly buttered, with the marmalade that has been sitting in the refrigerator since — when did I buy that marmalade? The jar bears no date of purchase, of course, though the illegible expiration suggests sometime in the distant past. The taste remains acceptable, if somewhat crystallised around the edges. I ate standing, leaning on a bookshelf, reviewing my notes from yesterday’s work.

The walk to Storage Wing C took longer than anticipated. The facility’s corridors seem to extend further each day, likely a function of familiarity breeding inattention. I counted my steps: 247 from the main desk to the C-Wing entrance, then another 89 to reach the Collection P-7 staging area. The fluorescent lights overhead flicker in a pattern that seems almost rhythmic — on for seven seconds, a brief flutter, on for seven more. I have begun to time my reading by these intervals.

Initial assessment suggests remarkable completeness. One rarely encounters such thorough documentation of a civilian life — birth certificates through school records, employment documentation, personal correspondence maintained in chronological order with obsessive, almost breathtaking precision. The subject appears to have been a meticulous record-keeper, though certain gaps in the assumed timeline require further investigation.

I discovered the plant growing in the facility’s east corridor three weeks ago — perhaps longer. It emerged from a crack between the wall and floor, its thin stalks reaching toward the fluorescent lights. The leaves are uncommonly papery, almost translucent, with a texture that suggests something once substantial transformed into something more ethereal. They possess a faint but distinctive aroma — dry, reminiscent of old bindings.

…

Continues in a forthcoming collection (late 2025)