Robert walks.
And he walks.
Along a drab and
mundane corridor without end, past countless faceless doors, Robert
walks. He has no idea how long he's been walking, or how long it is
since he spoke to Tom. He isn't tired, so he doesn't think it can
have been too much, but already it's starting to feel like forever.
The lights throb with perpetual monotony, not quite bright enough to
truly brighten the corridor, flickering erratically, creating odd
shadows and dark corners.
He begins to wonder if
he's walking at all, or just standing still as the same doors roll
eternally past him. He isn't sure that he hasn't simply swapped one
cage for another.
