The Room

Time moves differently in the Room.

Some think it’s the Process itself that’s to blame, like it moves you at the speed of light or something.

Other people have told me they think it’s all psychological, those cramped gray walls and that low vibrating hum. It’s the way the lights glow— almost mimicking your heartbeat, they’ll say. It puts you in a trance, returns you to the womb.

Then there’s me. I felt the Room inside my head, not changing time or altering my perceptions but connecting. Like I wasn’t even in the Room. I was the Room.

When the humming stopped and the lights returned to their full brightness, I felt the world return to me, draping itself around me like a sheet of ice. The technicians opened the Room to guide me outside. They assured me it was normal to feel weak, that I should go home and rest: the Room was this way for everyone. The look of shock on their faces made me smile as I— without them— left the Room under my own power.

Around me, the world began to whisper its secrets.

View this story's 1 comments.