As I was transcribing the part of this story I wrote by hand, and considering how I wanted to end it, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Plato . . .
What Dispels the Dark Side
And whence engulfed by darkness I cast forth from my fingers a single spark of light, and could hear in the shadows surrounding me innumerable figures running in every direction from what scared them most. This spark landed upon the wick of what I held in my other hand. Upon landing, I breathed into it ever so softly to start the flame of the candle I now wielded like a knife to the world I kept from knowing by casting upon it its greatest dread; itself.
As I walked forward, staring me eye-to-eye was a nose with a ring, two eyes, and horns; the silhouette of a bull stopping me to my latest footfall. And eye-to-eye we continued to stare. Unmoving did it remain save for its nostrils, its obvious breathing, and movement of the air warning accordingly. I brought the flame of the candle between its face and mine as it continued not to stir. As the light shined closer to its face, it revealed it imprisoned by a mirror, the flame now reflecting its own light most dominantly between its face and mine. Lowering that candle again, I placed my hand before its nose and felt myself warmed by its breath. I reached my hand to its forehead and the glass shattered at my finger’s touch. Holding the light I held before me, I walked forward into the apparent dark.
I walk for hours not knowing where to go, accompanied by the sound of scurrying as my feet wander aimlessly upon the stone. If a spark is waiting at my finger tips, I have a source to illuminate; if I can set my hand ablaze to ward off what monsters lurk in this unknowing, and if I have nowhere to know to go, surely I can extinguish this small flame, a weapon against the unknown, with my breath.
So I continue blind. Let them crawl upon me! I have chosen to see another way. . .
In the darkness I close my eyes. Light appears a way to stars overhead. Desolation is not my fate.
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