The Iron Meditation Chapter 5.2: Bruises manifesting to imagination
After momentary blindness, a narrow passage appears to me, like a tunnel or a cave. But even if it's narrow, it looks like it has even walls, floor and ceiling. So my legs move rapidly to meet it. After a few steps the floor starts sloping downwards and so does the ceiling, even more than the floor leading to the passage narrowing further and forcing me to my knees, to crawl. No light is guiding me from up front and my body blocks the light behind me. I'm wrapped up in darkness, I feel the cold from all around me, and my body is shaking lightly. I want to get out, yet I don't want to turn back. What would the crows say? And how would I exit?
I can't remember how I entered the park and although the crows know everything, my body's the only living organism in here that I've seen since entering. Can I continue crawling in a narrow, cold place like this with no light? I imagine holes opening up in the cave top a centimeter above my head,
and I imagine stalactites falling down from nowhere,
like knives hidden in invisible pockets within the rock,
the metal.
I shudder, and my elbow painfully rubs against the wall upon the small movements of my body. See, even a small movement is enough. A stalactite is overkill. It's enough to get distracted at the wrong time and I'll kill myself by being uncareful.
However, this was what I wanted,
something else than my office prison, to be a place where actions matter and there is a choice of action. Returning to the office and what do I get? To be locked up there for months more before seeing anything else than its walls, the food they bring me and what technology simulates? This line of reasoning seems to give birth to yet another thought, slightly comforting but tainted by my disbelief: The artist who created this park, whose name I know to be Ugnis, why would he make a dangerous park? (I know I can think up numerous answers if I take my time). And what use do crows have of danger? (Abstract. But I won't take my time to break down this question).
I detect a chill wanting to be born, but I stop it in time only to be answered by a drumbeat that's not too friendly. But I find myself crawling again, investigating the floor in front of me, trying to find out if there's anything sharp coming out from it. It's pitch dark and any time now I will injure myself. Well, as long as I'm careful, it won't be too bad. I investigate the walls as I move slowly forwards. And suddenly it all tilts forward and I'm pushed on. I lose my grip and I find myself sliding down the iron slope escaping the cold, falling head first. Picking up speed, and movement fills it all. The sinking feeling inside, like my organs going sore all at once. Darkness surrounds me. They had to kill me in the end!
I'm gaining speed and I slide faster and faster. I close my eyes but it doesn't take away anything from my fear, so I open them. A bulk hits my right hand, slides along my arm, glides along my torso, scratching me up a little.
Stripes of blood appear to my imagination and then I feel how it's wet beneath me. There is liquid on the slope! And it doesn't break my fall, it only makes my speed increase. And under the liquid,
the ground gets yet more uneven. And there is a stinging sensation. And then,
it slows down. The slide flattens out a little, but it's still wet and I have a taste of iron in my mouth. Then there's a little bit of light, a warm, organic light, with tints of orange, like the light of fire. There is water around me, and it is reddish brown, or is it only reflection?
Then... I find myself lying still and I am still alive. I rise with my back bent to make room for my head. The ceiling is still a bit low, but I can move forwards with my body almost erect. The water deepens and smells the same as the taste in my mouth and the images of my mind. Like blood. I wade on to reach a giant hall where there is plenty of room beneath the ceiling. And now it's not too cold anymore.
Drumbeat.
Ingen kommentarer:
Legg inn en kommentar