Fading Fast
July 27th 2010 14:45
I had woken up but I had no idea where I was. The real problem was that there were too many options available for me to be certain. The cracked walls and droning TV set gave the impression of a squalid motel but it could just have easily been a prison cell. Who was that old man in the mirror?
I felt absorbed into the paintwork, literally part of the furniture. Cold tiles clung to my feet and the yellow lamp dissolved my skin. I was fading fast. I needed to establish some kind of rational explanation for my alleged existence before my disinterested molecules deserted me. Perhaps there was too much me to begin with.
I suspected that I lay in a tomb and that I could finally relax, although there was no undisputed proof that I was alive in the first place. Does a bag of blood and bone have any real priority over dust motes or doorknobs?
I had come too far to drift into obscurantism and paralysing self-delusion. I was being sucked further and further into a black hole of doubt. The wormhole in time that I had crawled through had snapped shut, stranding me in a galaxy far far inside. I could only imagine what was going to happen now.
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