It’s so dark here.
Darkness like that cave we visited on a field trip as kids. They said, “Turn off your flashlights and then put your hand in front of your face.”
So we did, and it was like we didn’t even have hands, like our hands were phantoms, lost with the rest of us in the darkness.
The darkness is complete and the silence is, too. Silence that can’t be described, like a room without windows or doors, without the whirr of air or the creak of a hinge.
I ache for a thunderstorm. That roaring, loud crash that is so obviously a message to run to safety; that rain that drenches me and makes me cold and I shiver and I shake, but at least I’m feeling something.
I dream of busy streets. That rushing to and fro, the honking of horns, that race that makes me feel like I’m doing something even if all I’ve done is cross the street alive or drive my car from one end of the city to the other.
I long for light, for a sunny day in the mountains where you almost have to close your eyes for a moment because it’s just too good, it’s just too beautiful.
But it’s dark here and I’m lost, my soul a phantom like the hand in front of my face.Read More