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Sunday, March 27, 2005


the wooden chair is stiff and uncomfortable. the left front leg is just a tad shorter than the rest, making it an unintentional rocking chair as i shift my weight around.

all the walls in this room are white. no a dull white, but a glazed over shiny white. the ceiling, the floor, it's all white.

there is no door. trust me, i've checked. no windows, no doors. how did i ever get in here? that's the question i've been asking myself for what seems to be forever. time is of no essence in this room, it seems.

so i sit on the chair and wait. for what? i don't know.

after an eternity, or at least what felt like an eternity, i notice a black dot on the wall of one of the corners in the room. it wasn't there before, i swear. i've looked over every damn inch of this room and found nothing.

i stand up and walk over to that corner. i hesitated, but then, what's a black dot going to do to me?

the dot's small, as if someone came into the room with a black felt pen and gingerly touched the wall with it. i touch it with my left index finger, and watch some of it smear off on my finger. i look around, but still i see no sign of anyone. i take a sniff of the smear on my finger, and find that it's odorless. another puzzled look around the room, but still no answers.

sitting back down on the chair, i'm still wondering how the dot got there in the first place. i think and i think, but nothing logical comes to me. i put my hands on my head to force myself to focus when i notice that the smear of my finger's gotten a big bigger.

i use my right thumb to rub it off, but not only does it not clean up my index finger, but my thumb's now dirty too. i rub my hands on my pants, trying to get it clean, but nothing transfers to my pants. my fingers are still dirty.

i'm standing up now. i stare at my fingers. i swear the black, dirty part is expanding, covering more and more of my fingers. pretty soon, my hand is black. at this point, i'm frantically trying to get it off me, but it won't work. i use all my might to clean my fingers on my shirt, but the shirt stays unaffected.

i watch in horror as both my hands are black now, and it is slowly creeping up my wrist towards my forearms.

i am suprisingly calm at this point. my breathing's slowed down to a normal pace, and i feel a soothing chill come over me.

maybe this is better afterall.


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