“The Meeting” / A Memorable Fancy #317

     Twelve faceless, identical men sit around a table in a circular room. Everything is white: room, table and chairs, the men themselves, still as mummies. One of these men is me. Which one? If I were to raise my arm, I would know which one is me. All twelve raise their arms; then they lower them. I want to know who I am, and who the others are. I speak. Twelve mummy faces open speechless lips. Air is moved in waves and splashes round the room; then movement dies away. Twelve faceless men sit around a table in a circular room. Everything is white.

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