The White CeilingDecember 24, 1999The White Ceiling4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He opens his eyes.
Blinks. White ceiling. White walls. This is all that he can see. This is all that he knows. Everything else is gone. His mind is wiped clean like a slate, devoid of all memory. He doesn't know who he is. Where he is. How he got there. The white ceiling and the white walls are all that there is. The entire world. Something is not right with this. Something is missing. Information.
A soft click.
He twists his head to the side, searching for the source of sound. White walls, white floor, white room. All white, save for the figure standing in the center of it all. Something different. A coloured thing. He squints his eyes to make out the shape of it. Tall, and slim. Dark eyes sunk deep into the flesh of the face. A person. A man.
A talking noise comes from the mouth of the man. Words. He tries to make them out, but it is hard. Everything is fuzzy, and difficult to remember. He hears the sound of a second voice, and realizes that it comes from himself. '