Michael awoke with a start, as if he were catching himself from falling. He didn't remember falling asleep, but then he couldn't think of a time when he had ever remembered the moment of falling asleep. Was that even possible? He struggled to hold on to what he had been dreaming about. It faded quickly as his head filled with awakened thoughts, vague memories from yesterday.
He noticed there were no windows in the room to give him clues as to what time is was. He didn't know if it was day or night. By the glowing light coming from beneath the closed door he could see forms of shapes around the room. The room was still too dark to see details but he could just make out the shapes of what he assumed was furniture. A wooden chair sat in one corner with clothes draped over it. A tall rectangle in another corner he guessed must be a dresser or bookshelf of some kind. It took him a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the blackness. When they did, he decided to swing his legs over the edge of the side of the bed. At the same time, he brought his body upright into a sitting position and moved his head from shoulder to shoulder. His lower back ached. How long had he been asleep?
He remembered leaving the dining hall yesterday but he couldn't remember what meal it had been. He had been idly chatting with Jennifer, at least he thought that was her name. Then again, he didn't remember ever meeting her before. As they talked, he remembered thinking that her eyes were a beautiful shade of brown. They continued to talk as they moved alongside everyone else, shuffling out of the great room en masse into the long hallway that led to their rooms. Then he was alone in the hallway outside his room. This was the only time he could remember feeling alone. Every other time of the day he was surrounded by people. When he ate, when he meditated, when he worked, when he showered, always there were other men and women on every side doing the same.
Now he stood in the dark and stretched his body. His muscles were sore from the work of the day before. For the life of him, he could not remember what task could have made him so sore. He felt his way to the wall in front of him and placed both his hands on it, feeling for the light switch. There wasn't one that he could feel, at least not on the wall he was groping at in the dark. He could hear a murmuring sound outside the door. It sounded almost like a conversation was taking place right outside. Overhead he heard a soft hum kick in, the sound of air being pushed through a vent into the room. He started to feel tired again and his eyes grew heavy. He moved as quickly as he could through the blackness to lie back on the bed.
When he awoke again, light filled the room. His eyes were not open yet but he could feel the light shining through his closed eyelids. He blinked one, and then again as his eyes adjusted to the light. He surveyed the small room. He remembered looking for a light switch, but how long ago was that? He hadn't found one then and now he saw why. There weren't any switches on the walls. He continued to look around the room. He noticed that the light switches weren't the only thing missing. Except for a framed photograph of a smiling man, there was nothing on any of the walls. This man with in the photo with his dark brown hair, had a pleasant look about him and unremarkable facial features. Unremarkable, except for his eyes. The eyes of the man were a striking blue color. They were like the color of the ocean that surrounds a tropical island paradise. There was something about his smile and those eyes that was so compelling. There was a sense about him. A sense of knowing and contentment, as if he knew a secret he was unwilling or unable to share. He wished he knew the name of the man in the photo. Even more than that, he wished he knew what the man was smiling about. Michael thought maybe he knew at one time, but it all escaped his recall now.
Michael got out of the bed and walked over to the wooden chair in the corner. He grabbed a gray shirt off the back of the chair and put it on. The color of the shirt matched the pants he was wearing perfectly. He slipped on the lace-less gray shoes laying on the floor. It was then that he felt the call of nature and he looked around the room for somewhere to relieve himself. There was nowhere in the room designed for this purpose. He made his way to the door and noticed that it had no handle or knob. He touched the door and felt cold metal. He pushed at it and nothing happened. He knocked softly on the door a few times and the door stood un-moving. He rapped on the door three times with greater force than before. The door swung suddenly opened toward him answering his force with its own. It made him jump out of its way or else become its victim.
He took a step out into the same long hallway of his memory and he looked around. All along the hallway, doors like his own were opening. People were creeping out into the hallway and looking around. They seemed satisfied with what they saw, because they all began shuffling in the same direction. It was the direction of a doorway at the end of the hallway. He could hear the sound of running water and the faint hint of music coming from the direction they were all headed. A white glowing light pulsated from the open doorway as if the light were shining through a fog. He saw that when the people in front of the steady stream of people got to the end of the hallway they ushered themselves single file through the door. They moved unthinking into the room of shimmering light. Michael moved with the others in order to better see what was happening. If nothing else, he hoped to find a place to relieve himself.
When he got close enough that he could hear the music playing more clearly, he was able to look through the door and into the room that lay beyond. The music was an unfamiliar classical piece with an upbeat melody. He could pick out the tinkling sound of a piano. Then he heard violins and cellos adding their voices to fill out the sound. The room he saw through the doorway was long and narrow with a low ceiling. He noticed steam rising from the floors and now he understood the nature of the light that was blinking through it. The floors, walls, and ceilings were covered in a light green tile. As he stepped through the doorway he found it difficult to breath through the steam and the smell of dampness. Through the steam he could see the entire length of the room. Every few feet along the both walls there were shower heads. The shower heads that were on streamed down water onto the naked bodies of both men and women. On the floor along both walls were drain grates which carried the water away after it fell to the ground.
In the corner of the room to the right of the door Michael saw people waiting to take off their clothes. Once they took them off, they pile their clothes into laundry hampers before moving into the room and finding their place among the others. Michael followed their lead. He tried not to stare at all the shapes of the bodies he saw around him. After he took off his clothes and dropped them into one of the hampers, he made his way into the room to find an open shower head.
As he walked, Michael noticed that most of the people he passed along the way were washing themselves unencumbered and uninterested by the other people. A few were chatting with each other as if there was nothing out of the ordinary happening. Michael approached an unused shower head and turned it on. He let the water warm his skin. He allowed himself to relieve his bladder, adding his water to the water swirling down into the grate below.
