6 min read
The White Room
The sun was dancing on the horizon, shadows lengthening and the light beginning to fade. Inside the pure white room, only a table and two steel chairs furnishing it, stood a girl no older than sixteen in a shirt and pants the same hue as the room. She stood, still as a statue, in front of the only window, watching as the sun slowly slipped behind the trees with glassy eyes, half-glazed over with thought. Her dark, waist-long chocolate brown hair was rolled up into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, a blank expression on her delicate china doll face. A man dressed in a suit of various shades of gray, half-moon glasses, and hair like bleached…