In room 66
you are obliterated;
only your shadow
remains, imprinted on stone.
Archive for the 'rooms of experience' Category
In room 66
Room 65 is rectangular, the northern and southern concrete walls measuring ten meters, the eastern and western ten and a half.
The room is accessed through an iron door on the southern wall, which is then locked from the outside.
When the cyanide pellets are dropped from the ceiling and start to vaporize, the people inside instinctively go for the corners, searching for air, stacking, in those few minutes of desperate fumbling, one over the other, the heel of the father crushing the ribs of the son, the living dying over the dead and already being climbed and crushed by the still alive.
Ventilation, prior to disposal of the bodies, is provided by an electric fan system.
Your spouse provided you with the key of room 64, but forbid you to use it.
Room 63 is a bathroom full of spiders.
Saints carved on the walls
(sound of rain on stone)
a cloak and a sword
lying on the altar
and no bread nor wine
in room 62.
In room 61
(which has no ceiling)
only the moon rages,
yet skin falls and flesh burns
and bones become mercury
and screams become silvery
rings of bells, pleasant to the ears
of distant passers-by.
You’ll first enter a vestibulum
where you’ll be given clean linen clothes
an animal mask and a fur cloak
before being admitted in room 60, a perystile,
from every side of which they will scream
at you and throw you fruits or objects,
and one’ll advance in an agony
of giggles, and kick your ass hard while the singers begin
Hoson zes, phainou,
meden holos su lupou;
pros oligon esti to zen,
to telos ho chronos apaitei…