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The Writing Room

by Oonah V. Joslin


The tall figure occupying the room turned, sharply aware that he was no longer alone. “Oh, it’s you... What are you doing here? The sign says No Admittance.”

“What are you doing here, more like? This is not your place.”

digital art by Crystalwizard
“This is my place.”

“This is my place.”

“It used to be. Every place is mine — in time.”

“What are you doing with my things?”

“Cataloguing. Deciding what will be remembered.”

“What will be remembered?”

“Nothing.”

“Snippets?”

“Ah, your pet cat? She doesn’t know you either. You are forgotten.”

“But what about all my research... all my work...”

“It will be forgotten.”

“Who are you to decide?”

“Posterity.”

“Then it was all for nothing?”

“Nothing is for nothing, but ultimately nothing will be remembered. One day the universe will not even ask, William who? This is just a snapshot of the time in which you were.”

“It was my writing room.”

“I know. But you must forget it and move on.”

“To where?”

“I don’t know. It’s your story...”


Copyright © 2009 by Oonah V. Joslin

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