Where am I? There’s a clock on the wall. It’s counting down. There are about two minutes left. I can’t see any color, and I can’t seem to remember anything. That’s what’s so disconcerting. The lack of color. I miss colors already, and it’s only been a few seconds. The clock is at about two minutes now. ­I can’t stand it. The ticking.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

I’m alone. There’s something dripping. I think it’s behind that wall. I can’t tell. It’s hard to tell anything in here. Distance, space, color. Time is easy though. What’s that clock at? Less than a minute fifteen. The dripping is not in time with the clock, and that seems very annoying right now. One minute left. Less than a minute. What happens when time runs out? Do I die? Do I get released?

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The table in here is cold, and it seems to be sucking the heat out of my arms. I lean forward and back. Forward and back. 45 seconds. I stare at the clock. The seconds hand clicks forward in its small increments. There are only fifteen of them left. Should I do a countdown? There’s definitely something dripping behind that wall.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Where am I? There’s a clock on the wall. It’s counting down. There are about two minutes left. I can’t see any color, and I can’t seem to remember anything.