He stood very still, almost like a statue. There was nothing around him, no clue as to where he was or could be. All he saw was white, not a milky white haze or fog but a real whiteness that blinded him. The room he was in was large, like a rectangular hall. All four walls were white. The ceiling, which was soundproofed with acoustical tile, was white. And the floor was smooth, white tile.
There was a white chair in the center of the room, yet he didn't see it.
He stood looking at one of the walls. Since everything was the same color white he couldn't actually see the wall. All he could see was white. In fact, he couldn't distinguish white since there was nothing to compare it to, nothing to offset and isolate the color. It is because of this he was almost blinded by it.
If he looked down at himself he would see he wore a white shirt with a pair of white jeans which showed the thinness of his frame. He also wore a pair of white Nike running shoes which were old. Old, yet still comfortable. And still, as with everything else, white.
He looked down at himself and saw the color of his clothes blending perfectly with the color of the room. He looked at his shoes and moved his toes slightly, feeling the sneakers around his feet as they caressed his toes. He thought they fit well.
When he looked up again he couldn't see the whiteness. He couldn't see it because when he looked back down at his clothes, then quickly raised his eyes to the white walls again he found had no color point of reference, He knew it was white he was seeing, and yet he still felt blinded.
He frowned then, wondering what was next.
His name was Rudy, and it made no difference to him why he was here. He didn't think about it. He could have, of course, yet he simply didn't.
Rudy looked around the room again. The way he stood straight and tall made him look like a statue. He wasn't, of course. He knew he wasn't, but he really couldn't do anything but wonder. He could think, but he couldn't act.
Not yet, anyway.
He knew it wouldn't be long, knew that now he would have to just wait and see what happens. He was getting bored, though, and even though his body remained still the boredom started to show in his eyes.
He had a very simple face, not complex with age or guilt or fear. Not innocence, either. Just a face. His eyes were dark green and they showed his boredom more with each passing moment. His body was still straight, yet his eyes showed he wished he could do something. Anything but stand like this.
Now the boredom moved from his eyes and his face showed the same emotion. He looked around the room and wondered what was taking so long. He was finding it hard to concentrate on any one particular thing because he wasn't doing any thing. In fact, it was hard to concentrate on simply standing still.
Now he looked into one of the white corners and thought there should be a chair in the room somewhere. He suddenly knew there was because he seemed to remember hearing that somewhere. He searched each corner for the chair, but all he could see was white.
Now he moved.
He turned around and faced the only corner he had not looked at yet and suddenly, the chair was there. He still couldn't see it, but he reasoned that since he had not seen it in the three corners where he had previously looked, it must be in the last. And he was right. The chair was there.
Rudy moved again, this time toward the corner with the chair.
He could speak now, he reasoned, since now that he was moving and acting he might as well speak. Yet he didn't. He simply moved to the chair and sat. It was something to do and it felt good to get off his feet.
He looked around the room from his new vantage point in the corner and noticed everything looked the same. Perspective doesn't change in the dark, he reasoned strangely, and this was almost the same: all white with no form or shape in anything.
What Rudy didn't know is that there was a door along one of the walls. It was a large door, almost twice the size of an old garage door. It could have been a loading door for all he knew.
Or an unloading door.
He didn't see it and didn't think there could be a door such as that here in this white room. Right now he was relaxing in the chair in the corner and wondering what would happen next.
. . . to be continued . . .
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