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A Ladder in Time

Updated on June 29, 2011

The walls were white, just like the padded rooms in the movies, but
very quiet. The sounds of deaf crickets and mute birds were heard in
the nothingness surrounding a lone ladder, very tall of course. It's
height had too reach well over two hundred feet, a slim fit for a
large man though, it's weight management carrying no more than one
person at a time. That was sufficient of course, as the only one in
the room was a three hundred pound man looking to change the course of
his life, the only memory he held was the awakening in this pale,
nonexistent temperature forsaken room. The ladder held high, various
doorways protruded from the sides of the ladders ascent as the large
man looked in confusion as to what they were for.

The reason he was here...well if it wasn't obvious enough, he had self
esteem issues, you know the ones about weight gain, no friends, and
just a general sense of abandonment from life. The reason to climb
the ladder was simple, if he did so he would lose weight, and in the
process be able to discover what the various doors led too as he
didn't know just where he was at the moment. The climb began slow,
the first door that peaked his interest Began to quickly approach from
the left, a small imprint on the door revealed the words
1700's...England. The man took a second to figure out the imprint, as
today's date had been well over two hundred years later, and so the
room had to lead to an archive center for that time. Boy was he
wrong, the door swinging open with a swift glide of his fingers, and
suddenly his vision was thrown back from amazement and clearly stunned
from the actual visuals of English 1700's.

There were firstly the smells of fish and baking bread, the dock
filled with beggars and shipmates, the sight of hundreds of galleons
lining the waters like a brilliant sight of familiar wartime. There
was one thing the upset him, as no one he saw was large, not one
overweight to the point of ticking sentencing of death, as this hurt
him a little. He choose not to enter that room, and so with a flick
of his finger, the room shut slowly against the padded wall, the fish
stench that had once filled the air now a dry air of voided
nothingness. That was different, why did this just happen to him and
how is it even possible he was just in England. He must consider the
other doors now, the curiosity almost too much for his depraved senses
as be began to shuffle up a few more steps.

The next door came quickly as he approached the door knob, the golden
shine that pulled his attention had a carved inscription: France,
1682. The large man didn't take his time pushing the door open, the
sight of grandiose sights pitched his visual senses through the
heavens, a king sat on the throne ahead of him, could've been none
other than the great louis XIV. The place was bright from the
sunlight that poured along the many mirrors lining the courtrooms and
hallways, and the sound of laughter could be head in every direction
from a lively court party that ensued. There was something wrong
about this as well the fat man thought, as he saw the wealthy and
elite, and he had come from a poverty stricken neighborhood where he
had no job and never left the couch. How could such individuals gorge
in their wealth, this isn't how the oversized man was genetically made
up to be like, the door slamming behind him as he grasped the ladder
once again, the move upward an attempt to kill the curiosity of the
next door that shined with such white light that it was hard to keep
focus on it without looking away for a mere moment.

The weight had shed almost completely off from the intense heat as the
man stepped to the final door, the light burning his skin as he opened
it slightly. In almost a blink of an eye, the fellow saw every moment
of his life flash before him as the light engulfed entirely. The door
slammed shut as the camera crew zoomed in on the inscription etched in
the wooden door, "At the point of mere non-existence, you must choose
your fate".



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