The Hallway

I'm inside a hallway. There is no light; but in spite of this I can still make out my surrounding. The walls are worn steel; cold, dull, and lifeless. Formless except for the division between plates. Cold misty air swirls around me, making my skin clammy. Claustrophobia lives here. Death is its roommate. I run down the corridor, hoping to find some way to escape. I run for what seems like hours, but my exertion takes its toll mentally, not physically. Can I make to the end? Is there even an end? Should I stop and accept that I'm trapped? My mind is a washing machine; these questions are its load. But eventually I reach the end. There is a thick metal door, braced against any attempts to be forced open. However, a thin stream of light shimmers from the hinges. Finally, I've made it! The only thing left is to open the door. I reach and turn the knob, but it won't budge. And when I look closer, I find a keyhole. It's in the shape of a heart.

'Nuff said.