The Empty Room

Sterile, empty room sits before me, devoid of any charm or character, or hint of purpose

Irrepressible, incandescent lights, with their harsh and unforgiving glare, assault my eyes

Lack of windows and mirrors precludes my very human desire to look outside; it disorients my sense of surroundings

Exactly where am I? Why am I here? What time is it? I’d like to go home now. Just when can I leave?

No signs of life or other heartbeats among the isolated stillness…all alone in this stark, sanitary desert…no fellow creature stirs, no sun or moon to rise or set, no sounds or even white noise to entertain the ears…just complete and utter nothingness

Cold metal greets my hands as they lay on the bare table…hands that want to move but don’t know how…is this paralysis out of fear or expectation? Both, perhaps

Ensconced in a sticky batter of unyielding silence, neutral perplexity, and abandoned loneliness, I sit, interminably — waiting, watching, wondering…