It's cold.
The dark wouldn't be so bad if I could see what's crawling over my feet.
Then again, maybe not.
Such a small place, hard to move.
The sides are rocky, but covered in a slippery moistness.
There's no grip.
Constant drip, drip, drip, on my head and shoulders.
How long?
How long since I was in the sliver of light so far above?
I remember...things.
There were others. Voices. I had a voice, too.
Didn't I?
Didn't I talk, and laugh, at one time?
I seem to remember there was laughter once.
Hard to imagine there was reason for it.
How did I get here? When did my freedom abandon me?
Did I do something wrong, something to put me here?
Something trickles - or skitters - down my back.
Hard to breathe, my knees drawn up so close.
I'd weep, but I've nothing left to feel.
As cold inside as I am out.
...
I open my eyes; sleep comes and goes without definition.
No watch to follow, the crack above barely a night light.
I dreamt the earth shook.
A mighty quake that brought down the darkness around me
and buried me in it's cold, heavy prison.
I could still feel the rumblings around me...
yet...my eyes were open; I could feel it.
The walls wrapping me in their dank grip
trembling, trying to keep their hold upon me.
I heard a distant thunder.
Soon it was a great roaring, the stone about me shaking violently.
Had I dreamt my relief into being?
My suffering to end with a quick and crushing death?
It was all I could do to find a tear to shed.
The sliver of light above closed,
the cold slick walls folded above and began crushing me.
A sudden jolt upward, a deafening crack,
and I felt myself fall back.
Suddenly I was pushed to the side and down.
Everything around me fell away; I was surrounded by black rock
and shifting shafts of brightness.
I tumbled over, over, dark shapes and light shifting,
changing patterns as I fell.
Just as I felt like floating, I stopped hard.
Air forced from me, lungs grasped for breath.
I curled into a ball, covered my head.
Behind my eyes was red, rocks showering about me.
The rumbling died down, I opened my eyes.
Brightness stabbed at them as I squinted.
Only a pale grey of sky, ground darker and brown.
I must be dead. Could this be the afterlife?
Smell of dirt tickles my nose.
I feel it's softness in my fingers.
Isn't that a breeze upon my skin?
Isolated armies of pain attack me as I stand.
Could I be ...alive?
Knees crack in objection; I don't listen.
I squint to the horizon...I can see a horizon!
I reach for the grey above, the endless distance around me...
I might well be in heaven after all.
I turn, look at what was once my prison.
Only a gaping chasm, a pile of rubble, remains.
Not caring how or why, I spin around and begin walking.
Slowly at first, then faster, denying the stiffness, the pain.
Soon I am running,
memory returning laughter to my throat
like a thousand voices that were never lost.