Another place

The television flashes its lighted images across the darkened room, the sound muted, but its presence welcome as I sit in solitary vigil waiting for exactly what I’m not sure. Tired of reading in the dim light, my thoughts constantly distracted from the fiction, overrun by reality that I’ve tried to keep at bay and failed.

I wrap the thin, serviceable blanket higher around me to ward off the incessant chill provided by the ancient radiator which refuses to accommodate human comfort regardless of the thermostat setting. Rising from the makeshift bed, I stand to gaze out the window at the scene below. It is nighttime and the ebb and flow of humanity has slowed to only an occasional disturbance of the stillness that always seems to accompany the later hours. The scene from the window is ever-changing and yet eerily similar from moment to moment. Purpose of movement is repeated over and over again, only the faces change with the level of light provided by nature.

I’ve learned that pacing the floors avails me nothing; no comfort, no answers, no peace, no miraculous healing. It’s just a pathway to nowhere; back and forth I tread until I know every square inch of ugly linoleum which no longer possesses a distinguishable color. I stop at the mirror placed haphazardly over a sink which has known the germs of many men, women, and children alike; the porcelain chipped and worn thin in areas.. I use it no more than necessary. I gaze at my reversed twin reflected from the mirror’s silvered backing. I see the lines of fatigue, dark under-eye shadows of unrest, and a general unkempt appearance encouraged by long hours spent in this confined space.

Morning will bring me a few hours separation from this place and a day of work the occupation of thoughts that freely roam during the normal sleeping hours. Burying myself in work becomes a luxury instead of an item for complaint. I always detour for a quick bath and change of clothes between where I left and where I’m headed and the guilt of leaving follows me despite the fact that a suitable replacement will pace the steps I know so well. Guilt is partnered with fear of what I might find upon my return.

Returning here seems inevitable for this is not my only acquaintance with these walls or at least some very like them. Time in this place is not something I asked for and I’ll never miss it once the situation is resolved one way or another. The room we become encapsulated in may vary but we’re always put on the same level which reflects some organization of intellect somewhere, I suppose. I confront the people who run this place for it’s impersonal for all its advertised humanity. I must retract that statement or at least alter it in some fashion. Despite the robotic people I see day to day, there exists still some who retain their human qualities and who make passing time here bearable. I care not for the arrogance and pride which I see displayed regularly for I know no-one is infallible and so I question and prod until I’m satisfied though they may no longer be.

I enter the fray of mental, emotional, and even spiritual battle each day but it’s nothing compared to the battle being fought by the other occupant of this enclosed, bland, and sterile place. He cannot escape even for a brief respite of sunlight and crisp winter air. With the ebbing of spirit, any interest he once had in the rectangle of sky visible through the one clear window pane is evident no more. He withers away before me and I’m helpless to change the progression of time or reverse it which would be my wish. We share fewer words with each passing day and mostly I just gaze at the still form as the shadows change pattern on the wall and the minutes dissolve slowly yet still too rapidly. I watch and remember and, in the odd moments when I doze, I dream, never quite escaping this reality before being brought back to conscious thought by the beeps and alarms which now replace the strains of music and click of typewriter keys I normally associate with spending time in his company. Lives entwined; not so easily forfeited; I wait and then I wait some more.