It is dark in the room. Not even a sliver of light from below the door. Not a sound to be heard except the sound of the blood pumping through his veins. That pounding sound inside his head, reminding him that he is still alive, even as his surroundings tells him differently. So hollow.
He sits still, not feeling the desire to move in the tiny room he lives. In the total darkness, once, he had stretched out his arms and could touch each of the four walls from where he sat...so close...and his arms folded quickly and he had not moved since.
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It is dark in the room. Not even a sliver of light from below the door. Not a sound to be heard except the sound of the blood pumping through his veins. That pounding sound inside his head, reminding him that he is still alive, even as his surroundings tells him differently. So hollow.
He sits still, not feeling the desire to move in the tiny room he lives. In the total darkness, once, he had stretched out his arms and could touch each of the four walls from where he sat...so close...and his arms folded quickly and he had not moved since.
His ears reaching out for a sound other than the pounding, or worse yet, his own breathing. The reminders that he is in this space and the nightmare shall not end. If the beating stopped, if the breathing sounds stopped would he feel more content. Would the hollowness be filled?
Would the sounds that now make him cringe, when gone, be missed?
Would the hollowness ebb?
Because if they gave him one final wish, and he did ask for another chance, would they actually grant such a thing? Or would they just shake their head slowly and say that second chances were not the things of wishes?
As he sits, silently, motionlessly and begins to feel the hollowness surround him.
Sitting still as it begins to envelop him and he waits for it to complete it's mission.
He sits still, not feeling the desire to move in the tiny room he lives. In the total darkness, once, he had stretched out his arms and could touch each of the four walls from where he sat...so close...and his arms folded quickly and he had not moved since.
His ears reaching out for a sound other than the pounding, or worse yet, his own breathing. The reminders that he is in this space and the nightmare shall not end. If the beating stopped, if the breathing sounds stopped would he feel more content. Would the hollowness be filled?
Would the sounds that now make him cringe, when gone, be missed?
Would the hollowness ebb?
Because if they gave him one final wish, and he did ask for another chance, would they actually grant such a thing? Or would they just shake their head slowly and say that second chances were not the things of wishes?
As he sits, silently, motionlessly and begins to feel the hollowness surround him.
Sitting still as it begins to envelop him and he waits for it to complete it's mission.
Proof positive we wrote back in the "olden" days -
and were pretty freakin' dark then too...
An Original Work Of Fiction Copyright 1975 - V.E.M.
Any resemblance to actual people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Originally Published On 7/25/07
Originally Published On 7/25/07
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