An empty hallway lit by a creeping gloom.
Walls lined with old photographs,
From past, present and future.
These alternate with sealed passageways.
The door behind me is bolted shut,
It is impossible for me to return there.
A shallow fog clutches the floor,
Rolling towards the far end of the hall.
It seems like it's trying to pull me along,
But I brace myself by leaning back.
No doors are open,
So I wait in the hallway.
Maybe I won't be stuck here for long.
Maybe...