Predilections of Time

"I remember a time when everything was silent. Those were the good days." He relaxes onto a chair, laying onto his back and staring into empty space as if reminiscing on memories from long long ago. "Not a peep from a bird, not a crackle of leaves fallen from a tree, nor a single raindrop splashing into my hair. Not even the gentle, warm, welcoming glow of the Sun shining on my face."

"I remember being able to stare intently into the black eternity, imagining even a more black and a more spacey venture as time wasn't even a perceived notion." He took in a deep, shaky breath; "I had everything then, and now...i have nothing..." He said, covering his face with his hands, silently crying to himself.

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You woke up in your chair, the only thing within sight is a void that stretches an immeasurable distance from your face. Yet still rubs against your nose. When you go to scratch it, you find your hands bonded to a metallic structure - a cold chair of stainless steel. The only way you know that is because you feel rust on your forearms and back.