The cold metal slowly warms under Jane’s tentative touch. Relieved, her fingers crawl back, inching away from the doorknob. A breath, held for too long, breaks free to mingle with the stale atmosphere. Jane gulps air frantically, the burning in her chest reminding her of all her dependencies. As each inhale comes followed by a retreating exhale, she sees the universe sparkling all around her in the dusk and shadow of her hovel. For a minor instant, it had seemed breathing was not important, not necessary, only to find out that this notion was incredibly wrong. In a dazed stupor, Jane backs further and further from the door, her legs knocking into a cabinet positioned against the wall. The shock of the collision snaps her mind back into reality, the sparkling beauty fades. The need to run from the portal to the outside world consumes her. Her skin screams to rip itself away and hide in some filthy gutter. Her bones vibrate the urge to rattle their way to some dark, cluttered closet. Darkness envelopes her vision, her own lids trying to hide the truth and fear from her mind the only way they could. Spinning around abruptly, she plants her hands against the cool walls, her breaths coming rapidly, unwanted panic consuming her every thought and action. She knows that she will remain in this place forever. Where she thought she might feel assurance, she only feels a deep sadness and loss, as if something very important to her had just been ripped from her unfairly and prematurely.
As inspired by this photo by Scott James Prebble.
I hope it will suffice.
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