Original Writing Coursework

He floated through the doorway, legs paddling in the waters. He toppled down the corridor, arms flailing to maintain balance. He came to the first door, the sign read, ‘sight’ - or at least he thought it did, it wasn’t formed by letters, and it definitely wasn’t English, but still, it implied sight. He opened the door, he saw his bedroom, he saw himself lie still on his bed, he saw the door, he saw the light; he saw what his brother saw. He watched for a second to see where else his brother would take him, but he looked at nothing interesting, so he got bored and closed the door.

He pushed off the wall, and flew across to the door opposite, its sign read, ‘smell’ – again not that it actually said smell, but he assumed, and he assumed correctly. He opened the door, he smelt his bedroom, he could smell himself, he could smell the caustic polish used on his brother’s bed; he could smell what his brother smelt. Interestingly enough what he saw in this room was in fact much more interesting than what he saw in the ‘sight’ room. He could see the links and tangents, that these smells formed, when re-emerging thoughts from deep below. The polish reminded his brother of slipping over and hitting his head on a skirting board. The smell of his brother’s brother, reminded his brother of profound friendship and trust. He closed the door, safe in the knowledge of how his brother feels about him.

He moved across to the door adjacent, it was labelled with, ‘hearing’. He opened the door, and was taken aback by the sheer volume of sound that blasted from the room; he slammed the door shut, the sounds echoed and rung throughout the building. He put his ear up against the door, and he could hear a subdued chatter emanate through the door’s thick heavy, what seems to be, wood. The sounds that derived from this hum made no sense and had absolutely no bearing on whatever his brother could be hearing, however after a while of listening intently, he could hear – under all the other nonsense – the song that was playing in the room.

He crawled along the ceiling to the room next to the ‘smell’ room; it was labelled ‘taste’. He opened the door; he saw the reconstructed images of all the foodstuffs his brother had eaten since he last cleaned his teeth, and some very old bits of lettuce. He watched them float around the room, and decided not to watch for much longer, as it was making him feel slightly queasy.

He found the room ‘thought’; his eyes darted around the room. He saw his brother’s thoughts circulate the room.

It was a small room, about the size of your average bathroom. The thoughts that didn’t require much attention, take breathing for example, are heavier and deeper in colour - deep red in this case - thus almost touching the floor a few centimetres below the waterline as it, very slowly, whirled around the room. Whilst the thoughts which seemed to randomly come and go such as, ‘I wonder what Adam would look like in a tutu…’ flew in an oscillating motion very, very quickly, and is a nice chirpy green. But anything he happened to be concentrating on at that particular time, was right in the centre of the room, spinning and radiating like a golden disco ball. He looked to the window and saw a shiny new thought enter the room, it shimmered as it softly swooped into it’s right place, the very centre of the room, it read, ‘2735’.

That 4-digit number exploited the majority of his consciousness. Everything else could wait. The deep purple hidden thoughts - labelled only with a name - which sulked right at the bottom of the room far beneath the water, could wait. The genuinely black thoughts – so black light refused to reflect off of them, that are not only close to the floor, they actually push down against it, with such a force it pushed the floor down by a clear foot, to form a, rather disturbing, dip in the surface of the room, which hardly even moved - could wait. Even the nagging flashing orange to red thoughts, which zoomed around the room, even though they screamed urgency, could wait.

He thought he might as well take advantage of his situation and search the room for any other intriguing information. He surveyed the walls; they were relatively stark; aside from - of course – a mural of his brother, which it deviates slightly to what his brother actually looked like. Every tiny imperfection of his brother was hugely exaggerated, and every subtly superior part, again, was emphasized to an almost insane degree. He was fascinated so he stepped into the room.

Suddenly the water level started rising and he knew it was time to leave, he stumbled through the air, which was getting thin through into the corridor, which was also getting thin. The building shuddered and shook as it reconfigured, the corridor was getting longer to cope with all the new rooms, and soon he realised the exit was getting almost unfathomably too far away. The water was starting to slow him down, a current was forming, and this was not helpful, it was like wading through caramel.

He looked back and suddenly all the doors he just passed flung open, and all the smells, sounds, sights, tastes and feelings rushed into the corridor and screamed towards him – they sounded like they were going insanely fast, and weren’t going to stop accelerating any time soon - he ducked and weaved through them and in an instant he knew he really did have to get out of here, and he also knew that he wasn’t going to get out the way he came in, so he ran and turned a corner, slammed through a double door, and crawled up the staircase immediately in front of him.

He was then in a calm wide corridor, which was completely filled with water, he walked down the pathway. The signs on the doors were hard to interpret, but when you figured it out, they were crystal clear and annoyingly obvious. He reached the window at the end of the corridor, opened it and jumped out.

The wind rushed and gusted, forcing him in just about every direction. He saw a squadron of carrier pigeons fly across the horizon. The sky was a nice pink colour and there were only a few clouds. He looked down to the floor and saw the ocean - he saw the common thoughts. He saw the plumbing just under the water level that lead to every structure.

He was being pulled subversively to a large building which was familiar to him in every way, it was like gravity was slowly pulling him home, whilst he was being pulled he took his chance to examine the natural beauty of the landscape, a land undisturbed by man, yet we inhabit it.

He landed in his bed and woke with a start; his brother lay on the bed adjacent to him.

“So what was it?” Asked his brother.

“It was 2735?” He stated.

“Nice, I’ll never understand how you can do that!”