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An endless desert. A sunken building, buried deep in the sand. A bucket, now old and rusted, laid carefully in an abandoned, broken-down cylinder.
Stanley recognised most of it. The bucket, one of these things, of course, being the object that had accompanied him for many a reset. He held the metal item close to his chest and slowly walked towards the now desolate structure, still clutching onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a way back.
Stanley stumbled throughout the building, looking at all the crumbled walls where sad-looking pictures still hung, teetering as if they were about to fall onto the cracked wooden floor.
A wire on the ground, almost fully covered in constantly shifting sand, caught Stanley’s eye. He began to follow it, down into the dark corners of the building that was once called the Memory Zone.
As he wandered farther and farther into the place that could barely be called a building anymore, he came across a pile of glowing yellow buttons. Something he knew. Familiar. He pressed them all, if only for a chance to bring back memories of times long-forgotten.
Another button. And another, and another. He pressed every single one absentmindedly.
“Jim.” “Jim.” “Jim.” “Jim.”
“Stanley.”
A jolt of anguish went through Stanley. Grief overwhelmed him as he picked up the button and held it in his hand. He pushed it again.
“Stanley.”
Tears formed in his eyes. A small droplet of salty water landed on the button. Then another. Soon, Stanley’s eyes were flooding and his face was enveloped in tears. He clutched the button tightly, as if it was the only thing that mattered.
Waves of sadness hit Stanley like bricks. This button, this small, useless, glowing toy, was causing him unimaginable amounts of emotional pain. Sobs racked his body as he curled up into a ball on the grainy sand.
“Stanley.”