I used to dream I’d wake up and find myself in a mostly empty room. In some dreams the room has just the four walls of unmarked, grey concrete. No doors or windows and no furniture. In others - and these are a rarity - the room is still fully dark and formless concrete but there is a door and a skylight, a bed and what is sometimes a chair and a heavy, wooden table with a small desklight and a calendar clock. Other times there is nothing but a single floor standing light illuminating the room.
I am in that type of room right now; the one with the chair, table, calendar clock and desklight. And so far as I can guess I am not dreaming because I have been here, according to the calendar clock, which I assume is functioning properly,249 years, 11 months, 31 days, 22 hours, 59 mins and 21 seconds. I have not changed in that time. Time is immaterial to me. But I know this is no dream because I move the chair and table every day to a new location. And it has always remained where I had moved it the next day.
55 seconds. 56. 57. 58! 59!
23 hours! It is time again.
Nora, she says, as she has said on the eve of every 20 years of my captivity! I am used to the routine now so I go and sit on the chair and switch on the desklight. When I do, the wall facing the table blinks away into nothingness and there she sits on a chair with a single floor-standing light beside her looking at me with large brown eyes, dark nothingness stretches out beyond her. She looks different this time. Is it the heels? No. Unlikely, she always wore heels and sat with her right leg over the left, one arm resting on her lap, the other supporting her chin. Curious creature look. Always. Maybe the hair. Yes, it’s the hair. She’s got bangs! Hah!
She lifts her face to say something, or so I thought. Instead, a cigarette materialises between her finger tips and lights itself like the glint from gold catching light. A strand of blue-grey smoke rise from it steadily. She looks at it, then me.
Dhinasha, I say, leaning back in the chair, crossing my arms. I surprise myself. She gives a surprised look back. A smile forms on her lips showing a dimple just above the corner of her mouth like a single quotation mark. I can tell this has made her happy. She parts her lips slowly and puts them on the cigarette, inhales, maintaining eye contact - her eyes slightly squinting, as if studying my reaction. I try not to react. I keep my gaze locked on her’s. Don’t slip, I tell myself as I will an inscrutable look.
Mhmm, she says as she looks up and blows a cloud of smoke. The smoke slowly descends upon her and my eyes focus on one morphing smoky cloud as it falls; passing her hair, her new bangs, her brows, the bridge of her nose with that little bump, down to her lips where I make it freeze. I can do as much in this place - wherever this place is. The smoke hangs in front of her lips. The clock makes a noise as the display changes another minute. I don’t care for it. I see her lips form the smile again and there, that’s I want to see again; that dimple. I let go of the smoke from my will, it falls passing her lips, then her chin…
I spoke to your brother, she says, lifting a single eye brow. I frown. She reads it correctly to mean, which brother? With a flick of her wrist she says, Roanu, the crazy one. Her eyes dart from my right to left eye and back, searching for a reaction. I don’t have any, not for this bit of information anyway. He mentioned you, they don’t miss you, not at all, she says and takes another pull from her cigarette.
I remain silent now and keep my gaze, unblinking, my face emotionless, my heart trembling. She senses it. And that smile forms again.
So, she says, Nora, my dear. We have time don’t we, she adds. And then adds, I am happy you said something today. I will be celebrating that - a victory, surely, and she taps the cigarette to her side and then looks at me again. My attention is briefly on the falling pieces of ash. I will be thinking about you as always, she says closing her eyes, as if relishing the moment to come.
I remain still. Motionless.
The wall in front of the desk blinks back into concrete and she is gone. I am alone. Again.
I move the chair and table to a new location, turning them to face the other wall. Then I walk to the bed and lie down. I close my eyes and I smile and I wait.