The White Room

It was a small room. White walls, a white table and a single chair. The steaming yellow-green tea was the only color in the room. The white teacup blended in with the table and the light from above created a glare that made it hard to look at directly. There was still a little time, he could say he needed to wait for the tea to cool before drinking it. He looked around. Tiled walls. No doorway. The floor was polished tile, reflecting the white light. The ceiling looked the same as the floor giving a sense of vertigo. The light in the middle of the ceiling was blinding to look at, that had to be the way out. The steam stopped rising from the teacup, he looked toward the light and saw a shift, but the light was bright and blocked any details. They would be coming soon to ensure he drank the whole cup of tea. That was all he remembered, something would happen afterwards, but his memories ended after drinking the tea. All he remembered was the directive. But, something tugged at the back of his mind urging him to avoid the tea and look for an escape. Something created a shadow blocking the light for a moment, it fluttered downward creating a dancing shadow in the room. Landing on the table, it was a note, a small piece of paper with a single word: “Drink”. He drank.

It was a small room. White walls, a white table and a single chair. A cup of tea in the middle of the table. He stood by one of the walls, staring at the cup. His head hurt. He needed to sit down. He sat in the chair, tossing his head back to take a deep breath. The light pierced his eyes, cutting off his breath for a moment. Then he closed his eyes and restarted his deep breath. He felt an urge to drink the tea. But, also a more panicked sense that he needed to run away. He picked up the cup to smell the tea. The steam was hot in his nostrils. It smelled like fresh cut grass. He put his hand up to block the light and looked back up at the ceiling. Polished white tile. A distortion where the light was shining through, but hard to see any details. He looked at the walls, all white. Same as the floor. The cup hovered in his hand as his gaze shifted around the room. He took a sip. Still a bit hot, it had a grassy vegetal flavor. His mouth went numb from the heat. He blew on the liquid and took another sip. It tasted more flavorful this time. He forgot what he was looking for in the room. He grabbed the cup with both hands, taking a deep drink of the tea, finishing the cup. He looked up at the light to let out a refreshing exhale. His vision went white from looking up at the light, he looked down and his vision remained clouded, the whiteness obscured more of his vision quickly as his mind clouded into nothing.

It was a small room. White walls, a white table and a single chair. He’d been here before? Something about the surrounding white all around was familiar. A cup of tea was steaming on the table. His mouth was dry, and he was thirsty. He preferred a cool refreshing drink, but a nice tea would do. He grabbed the cup and took a quick drink. The liquid swam down his throat into his lungs by accident as he breathed in. He coughed and dropped the cup on the floor spilling the remaining tea. He put his hands on his knees bending over as his dry throat caused stronger coughs. After a moment of coughing he recovered and he breathed normally. The cup was on the ground in a puddle of tea. A flash of memory ran through his mind. Tea spilled on the ground, himself struggling against a force holding him in place, whiteness closing in his vision. He stood up straight and looked at the table. There was another cup of tea in the middle, still steaming. He looked up at the light shining from above. There was a brief glint, as if a glass lens had moved over the light. He jumped on the table, reached his hands up towards the light above. Slowly at first, cautious of a high temperature. But, there was no heat emanating. He thrust his hands up and jumped to see if he could grab anything. His hands landed on a ledge. About three feet apart, his hands found purchase and he tried to lift his head up to see what lay above. With just his head raised above there was nothing but blinding light. He felt a breeze on his face, meaning there was more space. He struggled to pull his whole body up, reaching with his hands out first to see how much room was available. Soon his whole body was over the ledge in the ceiling. He looked around. It was a small room. White walls, a white table and a single chair. There was no cup on the table. He looked up at the light above the table, it flashed brightly. The spotlight that was shining down on the room below suddenly turned and shined directly on him. He covered his eyes with his arms and tried to move out of the way, but both lights followed him around the room. The polished tiles reflected the light at him wherever he looked. After a few moments, the light dimmed to its normal brightness. He looked around as his eyes adjusted. The hole he climbed up was covered and sealed with a white tile, same as the rest of the room. There was a note on the table. “Congratulations”. He sighed and sat down in the single chair at the white table surrounded by white walls.