iI am walking down another corridor. It is cold here, and my hands hurt with it. The walls are hard stone, slightly damp. The floor is smooth stone, or maybe marble. In the dark it’s hard to tell. This may be a dank corridor, it may be an old ballroom. There is no light to know.
The blackness wraps around me, and I am scared. I don’t remember where the door is. I grope along the cold, damp walls, hoping to find something, someone, to get me out of this place.
When I suddenly encounter a hand, I jump and gasp.
Ssh I hear. You are safe. I am here.
The hand grasps mine tighter and then disappears.
Tears threaten. You are here and gone in the space of a heartbeat.
I heard your voice. I know I didn’t imagine it. How could you come and go like that? How could you leave me alone in this unknown place?
I wish for a savior, a saint or a sinner. Someone to show me the way.
Yet all that I have now is the shallow echo of my own breath, and one hand slightly warmer than the other.
I continue to edge around this corridor. Somehow I must find my way.
May 12
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