The Doorless Room

I had been taken through some featureless void by a nameless power, and my senses were confused, so I had no idea of where I had come from, or where I was going. Time did not exist during transit.

My destination, where I eventually found myself, was a large, dark room. The roof, walls, and floor were all of cold volcanic glass, as though the room had been carved with a small axe from the inside.

There were no windows, and no doors- no way to enter or exit.

My only sense of orientation came from two facts. First, gravity held me to the floor, or what I considered to be the floor, and second, a bare altar stood at one side of the room, and appeared to be carved from the same stone, as it was continuous with the wall and the floor.

Obviously, I was distressed at the situation in which I found myself, and yet I was apparently powerless to change it.

I wandered the perimeter of the room, touching the rough marks in the walls of dark glass, and stopped at the altar, and fell to my knees.

Something nameless in me called out to something nameless in the world.

The discarnate impression of a voice, as if in response, delivered me a wordless message.

This place is no place. That which appears is not as it seems. When the eyes close, therein is sight. Cease to seek, for then shall you find.