The Nondescript Parable

>Down

Nondescript stared in trepidation at both sets of stairs for a moment, carefully weighing the pros and cons of each path in his mind. With a deep breath he stepped slowly forward and placed his hoof on the first step. His next hoof came forward, landing with a dull thud on the step below the first. He continued down the lengthy flight of stairs, each step he took more confident than the last as he became sure that the decision he made was the right one.

Nondescript’s heart was pounding fast in anticipation, and as he surveyed the room ahead it ceased its incessant double-time thumping and gradually resumed its normal rhythm. All the while Nondescript’s face adopted a look of confusion.

The walls of the room were a rich brown, the carpets a warm burgundy. A scant few pieces of art, abstract of course, hung tastefully in strategic spots along the walls. There was a large oak desk against the far wall, presumably a receptionist’s desk, and a couple of comfortable looking chairs situated around a small table covered in various magazines and newspapers. A water cooler in the corner let loose a gurgle, jolting Nondescript from his stupor.

With an odd look he trotted about the small room, coming across another metal door behind the receptionist’s desk. He pushed it open and glanced around the room that rested beyond.

It was utterly bland; a few chairs surrounding a round table, worn cork-board hung crookedly on the wall, kitchenette to the left, complete with an extravagant and complicated coffee maker. There was nothing notable about anything in that room, so he continued on to the door a few feet to his right.

Another hallway.

Nondescript heaved a disappointed sigh and trotted lazily down the corridor, glancing idly around as the door to the next room grew closer and closer. Without pausing he walked into the room at the end of the hall, but he soon stopped and looked around quizzically.

Everything here looked the exact same as the first room he had entered.

He furrowed his brow but didn’t turn back. He opened another door, this one was also a metal door behind the receptionist’s desk, and walked through. On the other side, Nondescript noticed this room was also like the previous room behind the receptionist’s desk. A small frown appeared on his face. He zeroed in on another door, walking through it to find another room remarkably similar to one he’d been in before. Everything was the same, and he was monotonously walking through the same rooms over, and over and over again.

“As Nondescript walked throughout the previously unexplored rooms of the Restricted Sector, he found his mind wandering, and he began thinking.

He began thinking about his job, his life, and his ambitions. He put great thought into his career, but now, in this bland, sterile room, he began thinking that maybe this wasn’t the job he’d always wanted. That maybe this wasn’thow he intended his life to play out. And, suddenly, Nondescript realised that he had no ambitions. He never aspired to become anything more than he was, or to grow beyond his position. Nondescript began to understand why others considered his work utterly soul rending- it wasutterly soul rending, but he'd just never noticed it before.

But why did this only occur to Nondescript now? What else had he missed whilst he was blindly following orders? Why did he feel so fulfilled working such a monotonous job? Why were these rooms all the same? And why, Nondescript wondered, was there a voice in his head narrating his every action and thought?”

Nondescript jolted, startled by the voice that reverberated throughout the air around him.

“Who’s there?!” he hollered, his voice tense.

“Oh my. Well, thiscertainly wasn’t meant to happen. Did you do something, Nondescript?”

           “N- No! Of course not! Who are you? Where are you?!”

“Oh dear. This isn’t good. No, no. This isn’t good at all. Excuse me for a moment, would you, Nondescript?”

“Uhh...”

The voice faded out and Nondescript could hear banging and thumping from everywhere and nowhere at once. The noise was so invasive that Nondescript fell to the ground and covered his ears, his body shaking as his mind tried to make sense of what was happening.

“Ah! Here we are!” the Narrator said triumphantly. “Found the problem. It seems someone unplugged the perception filter. Fools, had that gone unchecked it could have wreaked utter havoc on the space-time continuum. Tsk, I suppose we’ve got to restart then, don’t we? This run’s rather null and void, now. Better luck next time, eh, Nondescript?”

        Nondescript’s eyes flew wide at the Narrator’s words, and a small, strangled noise escaped him as the world around him… did absolutely nothing.

“This is the story of a pony named Nondescript.”

“Nondescript worked for-- Wait, no. This isn’t right. This stillisn’t right. Why are we still here? Nondescript? Nondescript, are you alright? You look as though you might pass o-”

As the words left the Narrator’s mouth and echoed throughout the room, Nondescript promptly fainted.

“Well now, that wasn’t meant to happen.”

The Narrator flicked a few buttons on the dashboard in front of him and Nondescript was jolted back into consciousness. He whined quietly and curled into a shivering ball on the floor.

“Excellent! You’re awake! Now, care to explain to me what’s going on with my story? I had it all laid out perfectly, but you must have done something to derail it. So, tell me, Nondescript, dear old boy, what did you do to my story?”