^drip

^drip
 

^drip

^drip

There was no wall behind the bathroom mirror; instead, there was a tunnel. It reminded me of a ventilation shaft, like the kind that you see in movies where the international spy has to make his way through it in order to avoid being detected and captured by security. For some reason, it seemed like a good idea to climb into the ventilation shaft behind the mirror. I took the towel off of its hanger on the wall behind me and wrapped it around my hand, mindlessly twisting it around and around my fist so that I could stop the bleeding, concentrating on seeing something in the shaft in front of me besides darkness, which began and was fairly complete inside of the shaft, just a few feet from where I was standing. I climbed in, breaking the faucet off of the sink, ignoring it as it crumbled away into nothingness, part of a forgotten scene.

After a few moments of crawling through the ventilation shaft, I saw a light, and so I kept on in the only direction really available to me, since turning around, which I considered for a moment, would have been more difficult than pressing on. I reached the end of the shaft a little while later. I was aware that time had passed but it had seemed to happen in a blur, my dream self's perspective of measuring time was quite skewed.

I emerged into an empty room, walls painted white, perfectly matching the ceiling and the floor. It was as if I had entered into a large cube, where any side could serve as the floor, or the ceiling, should the room for some reason rotate around. And I'm not really sure why that idea occurred to me, but it seemed really important. I knew that I was there to meet someone but I wasn't sure why I was the only person there.