It was the only thing left in the now empty room
A room devoid of colour, or even a window
The only source of light a single hanging globe
And that was so dim as to be almost negligible

It sat there, like a giant ogre hunkering down
Staring, glaring, menacingly silent
One could be led to believe it was foreshadowing doom
And yet … there was also something benign about it

All around there was a hum as if a million bees
And the walls and ground vibrated to an unheard beat
Orchestrated by a mad celestial being
Constantly changing in intensity and rhythm

Slowly it rose to it’s full height
And with great effort shuffled towards me
It seemed like an eternity for the realisation to sink in
I was staring at myself