It’s quiet on the outside, but on the inside, it’s the loudest it’s ever been. Everything is scattered, comparable to a stack of papers blown out of sorts by a gust of wind.
It isn’t too dark, but it is dim. At certain times throughout the day, lights begin to flash, and it’s a beautiful sight. It becomes brighter, if even for just a moment.
You would believe this to be a good thing, yes?
What used to run smoothly, has turned into something chaotic.
The flashes of lights are intended to be warnings, but go unheeded. Instead, we lay in this pile of papers. We stare at the lights when they come.
And we wait.
We wait for whats dim to turn black.