Winston had waited long enough. He stood and walked to the metal cup and bag, carelessly left on the floor. His hand reached into the bag and pulled out a bundle of stalks, dry, thick, and hollow. He pushed them into the metal cup. The ends of the stalks extruded from the top by two inches. The oil was almost at the top. Winston waited 30 seconds and pulled the stalks out. Winston moved them in a circle as he removed them, leaving a dripping spiral in the cup. Much of the oil was still there. Winston went back to the bag and pulled out the jar of dust. He opened the small jar, dipping the oil-covered tip of each stalk into the dark powder. Once he had all of them, he put two sticks into the cup filled with dirt.

Winston took a well used piece of flint from his pocket and pulled out a small key of steel from the other. He scraped the flint with the steel above the stalks, the sparks falling on the powder and making a quiet bang. A line of a dull pink smoke constantly drifted into the air. A soft scent was emitted by the stalks, changing the room's scent of nothing to a very slight flowery smell.

Winston put his hands together and put them near his head. He was silent for a moment. He dropped his hands, and pushed him self up. From there, he walked to the door, opened it, went out to the hall, and locked his door. He went to the mess-hall.

Once he got there, he instantly was bumped into by a fleeing Taran. Winston saw almost everyone there, all eating. He walked over to an empty seat, and sat there. He began to eat his meal, not speaking to anyone, and covering his mouth with his empty hand.