Cavern

by Shawnong

The cavern is dark and harrowing. My visibility is reduced heavily. All I can make out are fuzzy grey images, with no clear silhouettes. Like the static lines disrupting the television’s display on a stormy day. The sound of my trainers treading gingerly over the sedimentation beneath is emphatically amplified, sending waves of echoes bouncing off the walls. A sound so disconcerting, it makes seconds last longer than they really are. As if you could put each second on an elastic string, and stretch it out as much you like. I have to keep as silent as possible, I cannot afford to awake Him.

I place each foot in front of another methodically, inching my way deeper in stoicism, whilst constantly maintaining contact with the wall using my left hand. The wall is coarse and uneven, causing abrasions on my palm just after a few minutes of prodding. The air is stale, losing its life to the residential hollowness. It is also getting darker. Light does not manage to find its way in here; perhaps even it is scared of the dwelling inhabitant. I squint, a natural mechanism, of course it doesn’t improve my vision. Only my sense of sound and touch is of value me to me now. I am in a compromised situation, I have to keep my hand on the wall at all costs to avoid getting lost. Wait a minute… The texture of the wall has changed dramatically, it no longer feels like the rough cavern wall.

I feel the blood flowing through my cardiac arteries coagulate, my heart stops beating for a moment, and starts palpitating with tremendous vigour, like an inflated balloon about to burst. My mind draws a blank and before I can remember, I am bursting in the opposite direction.

 

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