i'll be back

Turning slowly to that great space. Too deep. Came in through that door to the right. The other way's to the left.

Narrow, stones larger, rougher. This cloth keeps the trickles of sand from above off my shoulders.

A smaller chamber now. Round.

How long?

Minutes and years are identical here.

Steps away on the other side a doorway, not an open passage. The top is just an arch across those walls rising into...

But there is a ceiling in that tunnel.

Darkness, and not large at all.

Nothing ventured--

No pain--

Necessity is--

I'll be one of those statues before long, gray and dusty waiting for matter to crumble into leptons. For protons to decay. For the icy wastes of Ragnarok. For space, infinitely hungry, to swallow everything.



The first foot planted inside and suddenly all is dark. Back behind there's a slow draft, and this shadowswallowed hall feels to stretch to the vanishing point. Or it would if it could be seen.

Back on the path then, turning around. One foot so slowly in front, lean, land, repeat on the other side.

Fingers to the wall. Raw after traveling. Neither closer nor further from anything.

Tired, so tired, why don't I sleep.



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