As the man beckons for you to enter, you drag reluctant feet across the now screaming wooden floor and question in your head, the integrity of this seemingly flimsy architecture, and this person, for that matter. The shadows mask his face, but you’ve already had an image fixated in your head.
The man breaks words. His voice is somewhat husky, and not in a charismatic way. As you start to deliberate if this was a bad idea to begin with, to even come here, his words travel across the room to your starving ears. Why are you here, he asks. You tell him that it is because he has summoned you.
To which he starts to mumble something. Incomprehensible, and definitely adding to your frustrations. You contemplate leaving but curiosity weighs down on your feet.
As he continues to mumble, as if speaking to himself, your mind drifts and wanders into familiar territory. Why am I here? Why do I always let these things get to me? Why the obsession with finding meaning and making sense of everything? Why can’t I just leave…
A series of loud noises startle you. The man is striking, what seems to be a walking stick, repeatedly unto the ground. He has your attention now.
You’re not listening, he says.
Frustration transcends into courage and you retort saying ‘I can’t even make out what you’re trying to say half the time, I can’t see your face and I don’t even know who you are!’.
Funny, it felt like you blanked out for a second there as those words parted from your quivering lips. The following silence carves at your quickly diminishing rush of courage and soon you’re trembling like a junkie on his first withdrawal stretch. You think about this, and it makes you think about how you’re quite intelligent to think about this resemblance. Try to make me go to rehab I say no, no, no – Wait, what? No. Now’s no time for music. Snap out of it.
The silence continues, at least, until you clear your head and seize some peace within your mind, now overflowing with disturbing, renegade thoughts.
You. Are. Not. Listening, he says again with more conviction.
Your eyes reach the back of your head as you think to yourself, tis’ going to be a long day..