I walked forward. One hand held my coffee cup filled with steaming tea, so only one hand was extended. Reaching. Feeling.
Nothing.
Shapes begin to emerge. Outlines. This isn’t so bad. Hope surges through me. There is strength for the future if I can find my way in this darkness.
Contact.
A doorway? Is my destination just before me?
Movement.
I concentrate, trying to heighten those other senses. My arm and shoulder brush against something that brushes back.
Oh god.
My stomach turns.
Like the Cowardly Lion in Elphaba’s magic globe: I do believe in spooks. I do believe in spooks. I do. I do. I do.
My heart rate doubles then stops.
In defeat I reach, praying to connect with a light switch, defeated for not yet knowing those intricacies, nooks and crannies.
Light bounces off my surroundings.
My bumps in the night were doors and I was only steps away from the security of my bed.
Victory was close, but maybe another night.
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