Knock on the door.
It opens and I see a mirror.
I look into it and see no reflection
so I throw it to the floor.
I close the door.
I walk to the end of the corridor.
I see a window.
I pull it open with all my might
but the sky is empty
pitch black and cold.
I slam the window shut.
I turn on my heel and run for the exit
but the door was bolted shut.
I fall to my knees
and all I can do is stare at my hands.
I hadn’t notice they were wrinkled and old.
The sound of time fills the air.
It echoes in the halls and bounces off walls
and slam into doors
and rattle hanging objects.
Each movement of time
Each moment of progression
and yet, I am still on my knees
counting my fingers to see if they were all still there.
They are still here.