Under the Unknown

The room was spinning. Fast and around. Revolving and moving. My back was flat on the floor, my eyes closed so I could keep myself from falling through the rest of the levels.

Lights and darks. Shadows and starbursts. Back and forth. Hitting every corner of my mind.
I tasted orange. Heard the screech from violet. And tried to bat empty closed eyes away from the unseen sights now plaguing my subconscious.

I peeked and regretted it immediately. The four walls started to rotate, splitting into rows and rows of alternate boxes, cracked and chipped with age, wear, and tear.

It caused a sickening effect. Loathing, arrogance, nausea, all from the unnecessary divisions.

Where was I? What was I doing? Why was everything spinning?


The room kept going. Never stopping. Cycle unbroken.

My hand reached out in the reflections. My face turned dim and shallow. And after several more rotations, I finally found the one I needed.

The one I wanted.

I poked a frame. Caught the edge and added my blood. The revolutions froze, shimmered then switched their directions.

Until they slammed back together. A kaleidoscope fixed at the center of the universe. Everything dabbed with just a drop of blood.

The room stopped spinning.

Why? What did it all mean?

All I could do was watch and wait.

When? Where was I going?

Diving into a perfect circle of…

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