The whole room points towards it, all lines extend from it. The corner is doubtless the centre of the space.
The Seat is shrouded in darkness, whatever the weather. The other seats are arranged facing one another, so the attendees have someone with whom to share their disquiet, spreading gratefully apart as the risk becomes less immediate.
You only use the window in the case of An Occurrence. Otherwise the more mundane door will do (it’s behind you).
If the darkness emanating from The Seat becomes too heavy, the wall handles provide some guidance, creating a tactile pathway to the door, reassuringly warm and soft in contrast to the roughness of the bricks behind (double layered and extra insulated so the screams don’t disturb the class next door).
The floor is hard, smooth and shiny (it’s easier to get rid of the bloodstains that way. And you can hear footsteps behind you).
On Burning Days, someone has to sit in The Seat. That’s another good reason none of the other seats face it: you don’t have to look into the eyes of the damned. Which is lucky, because they burn rather brightly.
There’s only a faint tang of burnt flesh afterwards. It mostly gets sucked into the vent in the ceiling — oh, you thought it was air conditioning?
A room divided...
ReplyDeleteThose of the red brick and those of the cinder block.
It is a discussion of which is the right side.
The eternal debate between those of the brick and those of the block.
Then there is the one of the shadow.
Forever in the middle to mediate the debate.
Adding their opinion to whichever side they so choose.
Debating on an assortment of different topics...one side against the other
Waiting for the other side to make a mistake
Waiting to strike
So enter into the room of the debate
Which side will you choose
The side of the Brick
Or the side of the Block
Or maybe, just maybe you can be the one of the shadows
The one to be on both sides of the divide.