PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Thirsty... I am.  Hungry, but not lean, as in Beyond Zork.  Infocomm?  Ah, interactive fiction!  It’d been some time since I’d enjoyed a good read.  What ever became of them?  Now, I was left the one writing for other’s pleasure.

My usefulness worn thin, I’d found myself abandoned... again.  The dark corridor before me bore little illumination.  Slowly my eyes adjusted to what little light there was.  It seemed to be radiating from a great distance away.  The other direction, blackness.  As atramentous as the candle of a life that seemed to be snuffed out.

The apparent "beacon" was seemingly distant.  I could choose to stagnate and wallow in self pity, return to the darkness, or discover the source of hope.  Ha!  “The light at the end of the tunnel.”  Wonder if it’s an oncoming train... wouldn’t that be just great.

I pulled myself up off the floor and, with a hand on the wall for stability, made my way toward the soft glow.  The wall was cold and damp.  Farther than I thought, upon reaching what appeared as "light" was the reflection on a shattered mirror from an adjoining hallway.  So much for vanity...

The light here was more prominent, yet still dim.  It had an appearance of an open doorway.  Another long passage... My footing stronger and my vision adjusted, I could see that the path before me was hewn from stone with dirt floors and beams at the ceiling for support.  I was in a shaft of sorts.  How I'd gotten there, I've no clue.  I continued toward the light, which grew stronger as I approached.

Finally, emerging from darkness, I'd found that I was in a lush forest.  The ground at my feet, rich with moss, I fell to my knees, rolled to my back and stared up at the sky through the canopy of the trees.