The white room was the epitome of pure elegance. The party guests seemed to be taken aback as they promenaded into the hall; the pallid radiance that emanated through the entranceway was of such grandeur it seemed to be an illusion. White walls, white ceilings, white floor; there was no set ending or beginning; just vast openness. The heavens seemed to flow into the room. Crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, their effulgence reflecting off of one another, speckled like stars in the skies of heaven.  Jewels and gemstones adorned the single window frame in the room, the only aperture to the outside world of chaos and pestilence. Light seemed to devise itself out of nihility. In the clearance of this ivory oasis one was given a sense of security and peacefulness and safety.  Ballet dancers donned in crisp, lily-white tulle floated through the hall like angels; it appeared as if their feet were barely grazing the shimmering floor.  At the far right, an orchestra performed slow, halcyon melodies. Sterling violins, flutes, and clarinets resonated clearly through the rafters in such euphony that the guests were entranced by their sweet songs. Each note rang with the passion and finesse of a church choir. Both the dancers and the instruments flowed together in graceful synchronization, as if they were one.  The guests were captivated by the Beauty of the decorum, each element intricately designed to impeccability. Pearls draped down from the framework of the paintings; the snowy palette of the portraits scintillated with a metallic luster. In each piece of artwork, the guests envisioned the blissful moments of their life that had passed. Their minds drifted as they traveled through their being, the brilliance of continuing on in that bliss beckoned them to follow as they sailed back into reality. Alabaster columns were erect about the room. Sleek furnishings lined the perimeter of the hall; and woven in between fabrics were immaculate gold and silver threads that from afar gave the impression of a phantasmagoric glow. A room blessed with such cleanliness and felicity should belong to God himself.  Moonbeams danced from the crystalline candelabrum strewn about the tables.  Frosted silk tapestries graced the settings; they trailed from the gleaming silver chairs like the train of a bridal gown. Petals of white roses and baby’s breath drifted through the air like snowflakes; a mesmerizing and truly beautiful sight as the guests glimpsed into the innocence of their youth. A deep, monotonous vibrato echoes through the abbey. The ebony clock in the westward wing, engraved in elaborate detail, forged in trepidation.  An alarming disturbance, the melancholy knells of the clock hindered the natural order of the room. The guests slipped out of their thoughts, out of their peace, out of their happiness, and regained full awareness of the present world. Their nostalgic spirits diminished. The chimes grew louder and more menacing. Time, their fate, was creeping up behind them. The gleaming gossamer of their safe haven faded away as they egressed out of holiness and into deadliness.