Writing

Unmarked

May 27, 2019 darknessA musty odour carrying the smell of last night’s dinner and stagnant beer fills the air. The long narrow passage echoes with silence and the dirty yellow walls stretch for miles in two directions. The ugly blue, green and brown carpet holds powdered footprints of those that are trapped here. From behind each sunken wood door familiar sounds drift into the hallway, but it is from the middle of the empty corridor that a loud noise emanates because somewhere in the building an elevator has stopped. It hasn’t stopped here on the twentieth floor though where the hall is marked by a disappearing presence. Is it the same on other floors? Do people hide behind their wooden doors scared of what lingers in the hallway?

Twelve dim lights flicker creating an eerie unwelcomed feeling like it is forever night. Standing closed at both ends of the passage are filthy beige doors with faintly red glowing exit signs. The ground below them shows rips in the carpet and that the baseboards are scrapped with wear. The surrounding glossy walls try to hide forbidden secrets. They are secret from those who tried to escape. Everything stays the same in the unmarked hall.

By Shari Marshall – 2019

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