The Room

I walked around the room the first time because I needed to distract myself from the events elsewhere, the first revolution I noticed nothing about the room, should have took more notice, should have took more notice where the words I heard now, such a nasty man, my soil. Spells. Cast your spells, cast your spells, go on cast your spells. The second time I walked around the room in the opposite direction and noticed the window on the left of me, out of the box, it was as I looked from the window I realised the bareness of the room for the first time, the brickwork exposed like masochist teeth, little by little, I let my hand trace the patterns of the bricks underneath the window, the crumbling concrete leaving marks on my indelible fingers, the concrete had to be tasted. I started to count the bricks on the third journey around the room. As I had entered the room I was sure there had been some shelves on the wall opposite the door, holding, having as guests some magazines, or books, but now I looked and saw nothing, no marks, no books, I continued to count as I ambled.

                    I was now in continuous motion around the room, I had finished counting the bricks, and had already forgotten the total, so ignominious and pointless it now seemed and the jumble of numbers that danced in my mind became shapeless, formless, like the room itself. I remembered there being a window in the room, but now nothing, just featureless walls more depressing and desolate the more I walked around touching the bricks with my bloody fingers, I tried to recall why I was in here, there was a memory of a person in a room, walking in circles, syndromes, events giving way to structures and blank lakes, and then nothing but white palisades and soft water, as I completed another circuit I realised there had been a door into this room, I had entered at some point hadn’t I? had I?, or had I been padding this floor like Van Gogh’s prisoners for ever, slowly eroding patterns in the floor, the slow descent to hells darker chambers. I stopped for the briefest of moments, not sure any longer where the door had been; there hadn’t been a door I concluded, I mean, where would it lead to? I continued to circle this room. No other reality now existed. Just exactly as I remember.