Corridor of Time

Thomas walked through a corridor, the walls were covered in wallpaper in the style of nineteen-twenties American décor. Doors lined the corridor, each door was a rich oak color with black metal handles. None of the doors could be opened except one. At the end of the hall was a door made of white marble, it looked heavy and unmovable but glimmered with an otherworldly luminescence.

Thomas walked briskly towards the marble door, his black dress shoes scuffed against the long strip of floral carpeting that ran down the center of the corridors hardwood floor. Thomas’ brisk walk turned into a run, his dress pants making a swishing sound as he went. The corridor was silent except for the noise Thomas made as he tried to reach the white door.

The more Thomas ran the longer the corridor seemed to be but he was determined to reach the door. He didn’t know why he was so driven to this door or how long he had been running, he didn’t bother looking back or try to open any other door, his goal was straight ahead and he was in a full sprint as he tried to reach it.

Details of the door were revealed as he drew closer. The door had a gold lining, along the edges and made a square pattern in the center of the door. A small golden crest of a lion head was next to the silver handle of the door. The door was opened slightly, a shaft of light beamed out through it, dust particles floated and danced in the air, reflecting the light shining on it.

Thomas finally reached the door, he stopped for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. He took off his hat and his suit jacket then wiped sweat from his head. He felt like he had been running for miles in his dark gray suit but didn’t bother looking back to check how far he had traveled.

As regained his composure he heard the light pattering of rain on the other side of the door. A cool breeze blew through the small opening and the rain sound grew louder. Thomas reached for the handle and as soon as he touched the doorknob the door slammed shut. Thomas stood there stunned his hand still outstretched now only grasping air instead of the silver handle.

At this point Thomas thought about trying a different door, maybe another door entirely. There were so many brown wooden doors in the corridor that one of them would open. Thomas thought about this for several seconds and though it was only seconds the seriousness of the decision made if feel like an eternity. Thomas felt that going through a door was one of the most important decisions of his life and while he wanted to open the white marble door he worried he would be wasting his time on the flashy door and never get to leave the corridor at all.

Thomas reached his hand out again for the silver doorknob of the marble door. The golden lion emblem protruded out form the door and cut Thomas’ hand as he grasped the handle. Blood trickled from his hand and coated the golden lion’s mouth but Thomas continued to turn the silver doorknob.

Thomas twisted the handle of the door, his hand gathering cuts and scraps as he went. The golden lion was not a mighty guardian standing in his way, but the continued cuts and bleeding made Thomas reconsider his actions. Even though doubt was growing in him, he continued. He turned the handle all the way and pulled the door open. Though it appeared to be made of heavy marble, the door opened with ease. Thomas pulled his hand from the door, acquiring one last scrape from the golden lion.

The sound of rain could be heard in full, a gentle breeze rolled into the corridor from the other side of the door. Light was cast down over Thomas. It was warm and inviting. Thomas put his suit jack and hat back on and stepped through the door. This wasn’t the end for him but it was certainly the beginning of something wonderful.

Times End

The air was chilly and cold, snow covered the ground and snowflakes drifted through the air, occasionally flying into things and getting stuck. Lanterns hung from thin black metal poles that dotted the road. The road and everything else was covered in snow. The surrounding trees were covered in snow and the lake was frozen.  Fog hung in the air, adding a pale gray and darkness to the white sheets of snow.

Through the fog a man could be seen. He wore a brown overcoat, black shoes, warm leather gloves and a scarf. He wore a bowler hat and was walking up the road. Wind blew, but he didn’t fight against it, he just walked like normal. He walked up the road calmly and didn’t seem bothered by the ice, snow, wind and cold. The man’s white hair blew around, messing it up. The man had a trimmed white beard, it came down to his neck. The man was thin and old, but didn’t seem burdened by that either. In his hand he carried a lantern. It was a metal lantern with a handle and the light was glowing a pale blue. It helped him see through the fog and did a better job than the street lamps that were burning their normal fire and producing yellow light.

The fog parted as the man passed, as if the blue light was repelling it. The man walked at a slow and stead pace, where he was headed, was a mystery. Then the man stopped and pulled a pocket watch from his side coat pocket. He looked at the time, then clicked the top several times. The very next second, the man was gone. He vanished from existence as if he never existed at all.

The old gentleman reappeared in a completely different place. This place was an empty chuck of land, floating in a dark and endless abyss. The ground was cobblestone and chest high walls were built alone the edges of the floating island. The walls were brown old brick, but were in decent condition. These plain old walls were the only thing keeping someone from stumbling off the edge and falling into the endless abyss. Old Fashioned black metal street lights sat in each corner of the main square. The square was the center of the island, from this location, little cobble stone paths ran off into different directions. Each stone path linked smaller floating islands to the main square. On the southern side of the square is a half built bridge that doesn’t go anywhere. The old man refers to is as “The Bridge to the abyss” because walking over the bridge would cause you to fall right in.

Each little connected island or ‘room’ also had small walls build along the edges, but no roof or doors anywhere to be seen. If you go to the north there is a lone door. The door has never been opened. It doesn’t seem to lead to anything though. Its just a door sitting in the middle of one of the rooms north of the square. All of this was know as the End of Time. this floating island was like a lost and found for the universe. Anything with memory and importance that is lost, ends up at the End of time. there is a room on the cobblestone island that is filled with trinkets, knick-knacks, mementoes and anything that was a physical with hopes, memories and sentimental attachment attached to it. But for the more obscure things, like a single thought or the name of a long lost friend, those things all end up in a large leather bound book. The book had its own stand and was located in the square with the old man. The man, who was named ‘Zindel’, would also use the book to summon up the words of other books and documents through history.

            The creation of the island of cobblestone and walls wasn’t a plan, but series of random events. There was a point in the future when time, the universe and all of existence ends. The dark abyss of nothing was all that remained. But such an enormous event as all of time suddenly stopping made this moment in oblivion to be linked with every time and place that had ever existed. The story of Zindel and his floating island will have to be for another day. For now, this is how the End of time came to be and how it works.

Now Zindel lives for eternity in a place were time doesn’t exists. He uses his perch to oversee time and watches it all pass before his eyes on an infinite loop. Time is a tricky thing, its hard to explain and isn’t something you can see or hold onto, yet everyone believes in it and is conscious of it at all ‘times’.

Zindel had been visiting an old wintry land that was familiar to him before he returned to the end of time. He cannot interact with anything in any time, but still likes to go visit. Occasionally Zindel will peek into a random country on earth and view a New Years Eve celebration. To him, it looks like a countdown to the end of time, but to the others, it is a great and wonderful time. It is a time for hope for the future and reflection on the past. Every year the people of the land want to receive a better year than the last one and every year seems just a new and fresh as the last one. It’s a cycle the people get stuck in. they have anticipation for the New Year and are tired of the old one. It is as if they are stuck in a time loop. Zindel watches this and laughs. The blissful optimism is as funny as it is enviable.

Time ticks on, the world clock ticks, tick tick tick. But still life goes on, so lets all enjoy this New Year and look forward to the challenges and rewards it will bring with it.

Happy New Year!