Balance

It’s dark. That was my first thought. Not, “Where am I?” or, “How did I get here?” Simply, it’s dark. I recognize that I seem to be standing before a balance, a huge, t-shaped structure with plates suspended from the ends by chains. I can’t see anything else, it’s as if there is no floor, no walls, no ceiling. Just me, the balance, and the void. On each plate stands a man. One stands in the center, his arms clasped behind him, a clean, white, tailored suit outlining his fit physique. He’s handsome, but not very much so. He would turn heads if you saw him on the street, but he doesn’t have looks that would garner a second look. His hair is styled, combed, gelled, and groomed. His posture is perfect, his face clean shaven, his complexion flawless, his faced locked in an expression of seriousness. On the other plate lies another man, sprawled out on his side, his cheeks crinkled with the shit eating grin of someone who has prepared a prank, and is unable to control the joy of anticipation for his victim’s reaction. His eyes glimmer with wild, unbridled glee, and I see that his clothes are all black, a faded, ragged t-shirt with scratched up jeans. His hair is shaggy, like he woke up an hour ago and simply hasn’t cared to groom it. His face is unshaven, like a man who has forgotten to shave for the past couple weeks, or simply doesn’t care to. They stare at me, not speaking, and I, somehow unable to speak, stare back. We stand there, for quite some time, nobody speaking. It begins as minutes, then hours, then days, and then it feels like we’ve been standing their for eternity, the white-suited man locked with his stern expression, the black-dressed man grinning away, and I, unable to speak or move. I begin to wonder what the point of all this is, what my purpose could be in coming here, why I am stuck, staring at these two opposite men, unable to speak.

And then I woke up.