That Timeless Place
Voices from the east woke me from my deep sleep this morning and told me to be aware of something that was looming in the sky. A chill ran up my spine while my shoulders tightened and gathered up my anxieties.
I gazed as usual at the rising sun, the way it unveils the morning vicissitude and looked to the east as it began its pilgrimage to the west. Everything appeared to be normal until I looked to the north and noticed that nothing moved from one spot that overlooked an area above a village far away. A stationary black cloud hung over it like a frozen vulture.
My curiosity wouldn’t let go of me as it whisked me off to see what it was all about. What was this strange phenomenon lurking above?
The people in the village seemed to be frozen in time. Even the birds stopped in mid flight. The rain from that black cloud stayed suspended above my head.
I stopped to ask someone what happened, but he just kept still and silent as he looked ahead without blinking. An eerie feeling gripped me like the arms of a ghost. My inquisitive nature begged me to find out what was going on, but there was no motion in the village. Words just hung in one place, because there was no future; henceforth, no further advancement. I was desperate to find someone like me to ask what was going on.
Finally I found some kind of movement; a flame flickering on a mount. I scurried up to see what it was. It was a fire in the shape of a human face. In a booming voice that shook the ground below, it told me that I had succumbed to the angel of death in my sleep last night. This is the hell that I made for myself. There is no way I can escape from it.
While time will move ahead for me, the rest of the village will remain frozen in the present. My loneliness will haunt me for the rest of my eternal life. I will be able to see people but cannot commune with them. It would be better to not see them, then to see them and not speak to them. Oh no, what did I do to deserve all of this?