The room was/is deathly silent. Everything in the room sat stressed with a stillness of agonizing inpatients, waiting for the time to move faster. But how could time move faster, when it didn’t exist? It was/is merely a concept of things. It tortures sentient things with too much or too little; too fast or too slow. The worst thing of all about the room and the things in it is that the things inside it could not tell that time didn’t exist. Everything is and was. Nothing moved forward nor backward. The chairs in the center, numbering four, did not rust or shine. The walls did not crumble and the tortured sentient things inside did not age. Forever seated waiting for something that would not arrive because it did not exist. These souls once mayhap have been human, the ones seated in the chairs. Humans without the idea or knowledge of the absence of constructed time. These souls blessed in blissful ignorance continued their waiting.

Man without the concept of time is tortured. Man with concepts of time is tortured. Time gives man hope for, “Next time,” or “Tomorrow.” The room, without warning gave no such comfort for the four souls seated within the four walls; seated within the four chairs. Time did not exist and so they’re wait for the end would never come. It already had.

Undefined