Harbouring a dreadful suspicion, I was sitting on an iron bench, awaiting my turn. A week earlier I had received a letter from the Ministry. It stated that I was thereby ordered to show up at their offices within five days, or I would have to deal with the consequences. It didn’t mention the reason; no clarification whatsoever. What consequences? The letter further indicated that the entire procedure would last approximately half an hour. What procedure?
The bench was placed against the wall, facing an office located directly across the hallway. The office door was large, dark-toned, and intricately designed, giving it the appearance of a foreboding gateway to the unknown. The dimly lit, long, narrow, and cold hallway had no windows. Its ceiling, walls, and floor were all painted in shades of grey. At the far end, there was the exit door, with glass panels, revealing the winter darkness outside.
I had been waiting for nearly three hours. The mix of anticipation and uncertainty was making me anxious. My back hurt because of the hardness and coldness of the bench. Besides, I felt suffocated by the grim atmosphere surrounding me.
At the opposite end of the long bench, another man was also waiting. Judging by his hands, he didn’t appear to be old. But his hair was grey, and the skin on his face was wrinkled, suggesting he may have aged before his time. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor and quietly mumbled something that I couldn’t understand.
I occupied my mind by glancing at the floor, the ceiling, the office door, and the exit door. After some time, I began to tap my fingers nervously on the bench, glancing sideways at my unfortunate companion, who was doing the same.
At last, someone came out of the office. He was a young man, yet something about him gave the impression of old age. He paused for a brief moment, casting a terrified glance our way, his eyes seeming to leap from his pale face, before he dashed hurriedly toward the exit. As he swung the door open, a blast of frigid wind rushed inside, intensifying the already unbearable chill of the corridor, a biting cold that seemed to penetrate my very bones.
A short while later, an orderly, dressed in what I thought was a rather old-fashioned uniform, emerged from the office. Her hair was pulled back in a very severe style. Her face, strikingly pale and devoid of any expression, showed no trace of makeup. “Next,” she said, in a voice that struck me as irksome and dissonant. Then, she vanished back into the office. The man seated at the opposite end of the bench stood up, looked at the office door, hesitated for a moment, and finally decided to enter.
An intense anxiety was rising inside me, making me feel dizzy and nauseated. I was shuddering. Almost half an hour later, the man came out of the office and looked at me with sad and absent eyes. Unlike the previous man, he made his way to the exit with a slow pace, as if he was struggling to move or had lost his will to live. Upon reaching the door, he paused, glanced back at me one last time, and walked away, as the wind gushed into the hallway, unleashing its fury upon me.
I heard footsteps inside the office. I knew it was the orderly coming to summon me. I quickly rose to my feet. When she came out, she mechanically repeated, "Next," in her monotone voice before methodically returning inside.
Even though the hallway was cold, I felt as if I was suffocating; my head was extremely hot, and my entire body was drenched in sweat. My heart raced, and I found myself caught in a panic attack. I still wasn’t ready to open the office door. For a brief moment, I shifted my gaze back and forth between the office door and the exit door. After overcoming my fears, I grasped the office doorknob tightly, ready to turn it and go inside.
Suddenly, just before I opened the door, I took flight and darted towards the exit door. I ran as fast as I could. The distance between execution and freedom felt painfully long—like an eternity; I feared I would never reach it. I finally got hold of the exit door, flung it open, and hurried outside. The icy wind greeted me, dancing and howling, as if beckoning me like a spectre, wrapping around me and kissing me with lips that seemed to be from beyond the grave. I pushed through the gusts and, in a daze, vanished into the night.
© Translated from the French by William Almonte Jiménez, 2012
© French title: "L'Attente et L'Incertitude"
© William Almonte Jiménez, 1997
