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You're in the middle of a room. You don't quite remember how you got there, though. And, when you think about it, you can't quite remember anything outside the room. You're pretty sure there is something of some kind outside the room, though. It's not like the room is the only thing in existence, right? Looking around, there are two other people in the room. One of them is looking at you, kind of strangely. The other walks over to a corner and sits down. That person has a look that might be understanding on their faces, so you go over and ask them what is going on. They don't tell you anything, though. They just look off at the center of the room. The other person seems confused about the fact that you are asking them questions. They think that you, if anyone, should be able to say where you came from. Where they came from, in fact. Talking with them is confusing, so you stop after a while. You try banging on the walls of the room, shouting for help. Nothing. The other two just look at you as if you should know better. As if you should know it wouldn't be that easy. Sometimes they talk amongst themselves, sometimes you talk to them, but nothing ever really comes of that. You search carefully, but there are no doors. No exits or entrances or anything. Just the room. Time passes. You aren't sure how long. It feels like it might have been a long time, or that might be an illusion, and almost no time has passed at all. You can't really be sure of anything like that in the room. You can't trust yourself to keep track of something like time. Finally, the person sitting in the corner gets up, and walks across the room. About halfway there, they stop abruptly, and look around. They look somewhat confused. The other person has a look of realization on their face, and goes off to sit in the corner of the room. Clearly that person just picked up something you missed. You go over, again, and ask them what's going on. They don't really answer you. They say it's all the same. That nobody ever gets out of the room. That it just keeps happening again and again. Whatever. The other person, who was sitting in the corner, starts asking you some questions. They're the same questions you asked them, though. So why should you know? They don't seem to understand that, though. They start banging on the walls, looking around. Even though you already did all of that. Maybe you try to convince them it's worthless, but they don't seem to care. By now, maybe things are starting to click together, and maybe they aren't. But the person who is now sitting in the corner gets up and walks to the middle of the room. This time you get it, and know what to look for. They look around, and it's with a look of non-recognition. Like they don't know how they got there, in the middle of the room. Like they've been wiped clean. You go to the corner. Far away from the center of the room. It's pretty clear now. Whenever you go to the center, you forget. How long have you been here? How long have all of you been here? There's no way of knowing. You sit in the corner for a while. You see know what the other two are doing, from your new point of view. They don't understand anymore. You could tell them. Maybe you do. But they wouldn't believe you. They want to believe in a beginning. An end. Maybe walking to the center of the room is both. Or beginnings and ends are just illusions. You can't get out. You know that now. But you have a choice. Do you want to know that it's futile? That there's nothing outside the room? Or do you want to do it all again? It'll show the other people, when telling them just fails. And you can figure it all out again anyway. With that in mind, you walk to the center of the room. |
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Clare Maguire > 6dec2002 > The Face of The Future |
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