The Writers Voice
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In Here
by
Ofavon
(The prompt was a glow of light seen through a
pattern of grillwork.)
There are times of light and dark in here. I prefer the light times, there is
movement all around me then, and sound -- it is wonderful to hear. When it is
dark, it is quiet and the only sound I hear is a double thump; thump, bump --
thump bump. A rhythm so regular it lulls me to sleep. So I have learned to
regulate my existence by the light and the dark - and the sound.
When the dark comes I seem to lose my senses and drift away. I pass into a
state of unconsciousness which I think is similar to the state I was in before
all this began. How would I know such things? I am aware now and I am not aware
in the dark - that is why.
The space is confining. It was larger here just a short time ago, but now I
can reach out and touch the sides - the warm smooth sides of my cell. Perhaps
the space is the same and I am growing larger ... whichever it is, I am
obsessed by the thought that I will not be here much longer. There is something
waiting outside. That will be an exciting time, I believe - I will be outside of
where I am now. Outside is where the sound is, the light and the dark come from
there. I’m sure I will be very afraid, but I also believe I will find safety
and assurance outside, and Oh, there will be much to learn.
But I have already learned a great deal. I learned the difference between
light and dark very quickly, and now I am beginning to recognize the sounds from
outside. They are like music - sometimes together and sometimes alone - there
is one sound I hear more than any of the others. It has been with me from the
very beginning, it was in fact the first sound I remember. When I leave here
this will be the sound I want to see.
There must be more than this.
The End
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