A chair
sits
by itself
in the center
of an
otherwise
empty room.

The walls are bare
and dirty,
clammy
and
grimy.

The tile floor
has seen
many
a patient
and corpse.

The ticking
of a clock
sounds
in my head,
but no clock
is to be
found.

I blink.

A girl sits in the chair.

The light goes out,
though a bulb
does
not hang.

I blink.

It is quiet.

The light comes on.

The girl is gone.