The corridor was long, as long as a lifetime. At the far end, no more than a pinprick in the distance, stood a heavy gray curtain, which I was drawn to, irresistibly, by gods, or destiny or time. The hallway's floor and ceiling were dark hardwood, and the walls were murals of living ideas: hands that grasped as you passed, machines that screeched and smoked, ziggurats that assembled and crumbled before your eyes.
Corridor
The corridor was long, as long as a lifetime. At the far end, no more than a pinprick in the distance, stood a heavy gray curtain, which I was drawn to, irresistibly, by gods, or destiny or time. The hallway's floor and ceiling were dark hardwood, and the walls were murals of living ideas: hands that grasped as you passed, machines that screeched and smoked, ziggurats that assembled and crumbled before your eyes.