The Painting

He stepped into the room as if stepping out of a painting into a three dimensional world

The world he just left behind

A world dreams are made of he thought as he stood staring into the ancient painting

It was his very own face he found staring back at him
Reaching out with his frail, trembling hand he ran his finger down the lines carved into the face
What had become of him he thought

He walked to the door and turned, slowly making his way down a long daunting hallway
Paintings hanging on each side
The faces staring back at him screaming
Alive
Screaming as if trying to escape the nightmarish surroundings painted around them
These were not unfamiliar faces
There were no strangers in this hallway

Coming to a door he slowly looked back before turning, gripping the knob with his now sweaty hand
Pulling it open he found

Darkness

Completely surrounded by darkness
The screams of the hallway had found there way through the door
The door which had disappeared

Enveloped with fear he ran
His feet finding emptiness
As he fell
And fell

Darkness

Emptiness
and
Darkness

The doctor turned to leave, nothing more could be done, he entered the time of death on the chart and handed it back to the nurse as he turned and disappeared into the hallway

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