A Circle of Sky

And here I am again, in the one truly safe place, the place from which I can’t fall any further.
It’s dependable, at least. For a start, there’s only me down here, so there’s no-one to disappoint me or be disappointed by me. And it’s dark too, so I can’t be deceived by shadows. The walls around me are curved, and smooth, like glass, offering no foot- or hand-holds which might offer hope of escape.
That’s fine. When you get used to the fact that there’s no hope, then despair melts away too.
Time stops. No reference point by which to gauge the passage of minutes, hours, days. If I listen very carefully, I can make out the faint sound of my own pulse, the silences between each beat drawing out until it seems that, soon, there will only be the silence, the ultimate silence, pure and perfect.
But it never quite makes that final transition. The next beat of my heart may be a long time coming, but it comes. And each time, it catches me unawares, like a sudden clap of thunder in my ears, startling me, reminding me that I’ll never be without fear or despair or hope or misery or joy while I can still hear the sound of my own heart; no matter how dark and hopeless my condition seems, I’m still alive.
That’s when I see it. Above me, just delineating itself in the gloom. The faintest of glows. A circle of sky, not quite blue yet, but distinct enough to seize my attention and cause me to unfurl a little from the cold floor. It gets brighter, and now I see that I’m not as deep below the surface as I’d thought, and neither are the walls of my pit as devoid of feature as I’d believed.
If I want to, I can climb out.
The question merits little consideration. I begin to struggle upwards. Now, I can hear friendly voices from above, encouraging my ascent. Tenuous as my grip seems to be, I make progress toward the light.
Will I make it to the surface? I don’t know. I’ve been up there before, only to fall – or perhaps leap? – back into the depths. But I can’t appreciate the light without knowing the darkness. Even if my fall is inevitable, I have to at least attempt the climb.
That circle of sky is close now. It always was.