He opened his eyes and felt a shudder coarse through the whole of his body. None of this made sense! The building was cavernous but felt claustrophobic, the air was warm but he felt an icy chill in his bones and, probably most importantly, he didn’t want to be there though he knew it was where he was supposed to be.
He looked around, that was a feat in itself. The room was as dark as night but he could see, his eyes being able to penetrate the blackness. It was as if he was wearing a miner’s helmet with the light on the top piercing the dark. He felt his head, as if to check for the helmet, there was none, but he already knew that.
He was standing in aisle of what appeared, at first glance to be a warehouse, in between two rows of racking. The racking was built out of a thick angle-iron and was battleship grey. Its shelves looked like they were made from scaffold boards neatly buffered together. The shelves were so deep he couldn’t see the back and went so high he couldn’t see the top and, they were empty. The floor was hard and cold. He knew it was black marble even though he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see his feet either they were covered in what appeared to be a rolling mist. It reminded him of dry ice at a Motorhead concert only this was a dirty grey and felt heavy on his toes.
He reached out to touch the shelves and although they we close he couldn’t reach them. He walked towards them but they got no closer, he didn’t know why he’d bothered because he already knew this as well.
He shuddered again! He didn’t know why or how he knew all this stuff, he just did. Also, he wasn’t alone!
There were people shuffling past him all the time searching for a way out but resigned to the fact there was none. They were all different; young and old, male and female, black and white but all with one common denominator, a black sack. Well that’s what it looked like, a black sack tied with a thick rope thrown over their shoulder and dragged behind them as they moved along. He knew it wasn’t a black sack and he knew what it was though he tried not to think about it. He wouldn’t even look behind him to see if his was there, he knew it was.
Something appeared out of the darkness and stopped next to a shuffling figure. He couldn’t describe it! He could look at it, stare into its eyes, but couldn’t remember a thing about it when he looked away. It had with it a box. The box was transparent but he never looked in it, he was transfixed on the rainbow of colored lights flashing around the top. It spoke to the person who nodded then stepped slowly into the box. As they did so they left behind the ‘black sack’ which in turn dispersed into the misty floor.
He watched as it approached other people who in turn nodded stepped into the box leaving behind their ‘black sacks’. Then it approached him, inviting him to enter the box, he shook his head, it nodded and walked away towards the next person. He let out a sigh of relief but soon it was back inviting him again.
“No thanks!” he said.
It looked at him and shook its head.
“You’re wasting time; you need to get into the box.”
“What time?” he asked already knowing the answer.
“You have an hour to say your goodbyes and now you are wasting time, your time.” It said with no emotion.
“You aren’t death! Death has a cloak and a scythe but you…….” He didn’t finish his sentence because in his heart he knew and started to step into the box.
He looked around, that was a feat in itself. The room was as dark as night but he could see, his eyes being able to penetrate the blackness. It was as if he was wearing a miner’s helmet with the light on the top piercing the dark. He felt his head, as if to check for the helmet, there was none, but he already knew that.
He was standing in aisle of what appeared, at first glance to be a warehouse, in between two rows of racking. The racking was built out of a thick angle-iron and was battleship grey. Its shelves looked like they were made from scaffold boards neatly buffered together. The shelves were so deep he couldn’t see the back and went so high he couldn’t see the top and, they were empty. The floor was hard and cold. He knew it was black marble even though he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see his feet either they were covered in what appeared to be a rolling mist. It reminded him of dry ice at a Motorhead concert only this was a dirty grey and felt heavy on his toes.
He reached out to touch the shelves and although they we close he couldn’t reach them. He walked towards them but they got no closer, he didn’t know why he’d bothered because he already knew this as well.
He shuddered again! He didn’t know why or how he knew all this stuff, he just did. Also, he wasn’t alone!
There were people shuffling past him all the time searching for a way out but resigned to the fact there was none. They were all different; young and old, male and female, black and white but all with one common denominator, a black sack. Well that’s what it looked like, a black sack tied with a thick rope thrown over their shoulder and dragged behind them as they moved along. He knew it wasn’t a black sack and he knew what it was though he tried not to think about it. He wouldn’t even look behind him to see if his was there, he knew it was.
Something appeared out of the darkness and stopped next to a shuffling figure. He couldn’t describe it! He could look at it, stare into its eyes, but couldn’t remember a thing about it when he looked away. It had with it a box. The box was transparent but he never looked in it, he was transfixed on the rainbow of colored lights flashing around the top. It spoke to the person who nodded then stepped slowly into the box. As they did so they left behind the ‘black sack’ which in turn dispersed into the misty floor.
He watched as it approached other people who in turn nodded stepped into the box leaving behind their ‘black sacks’. Then it approached him, inviting him to enter the box, he shook his head, it nodded and walked away towards the next person. He let out a sigh of relief but soon it was back inviting him again.
“No thanks!” he said.
It looked at him and shook its head.
“You’re wasting time; you need to get into the box.”
“What time?” he asked already knowing the answer.
“You have an hour to say your goodbyes and now you are wasting time, your time.” It said with no emotion.
“You aren’t death! Death has a cloak and a scythe but you…….” He didn’t finish his sentence because in his heart he knew and started to step into the box.
2 comments:
Feeling a bit stressed Darling man? C'mere, I'll take your mind off it for a while...
Thank goodnes dj your getting to grips with him ,as we can't do a thing with him with this sort of post.
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