My position had shifted. Instead of being outside in the light of day with the soft springy grass underfoot, I now wrestled with a new position. I could no longer hear the cheery voices or see the lawn that had been gleefully shaped by steady hands. I could no longer hear the reverberating rings of the morning birds’ cries. No, no longer. I could also no longer walk the wide diameter of the garden within the courtyard nor move hesitantly through the grand halls with my heels clicking noisily against the stone floor. Not anymore. Instead, I was now surrounded by darkness, hundreds of feet below the hard packed earth. Undistinguishable forms now swam before my eyes. It was cold. The solid metal at my back sent shivers down my spine. I could feel the mesh covering my face and could entwine my fingers in a bed of crumbs. My eternal resting place was dirty. Eternal resting place. How about that? A new position indeed. At least I knew that there was no reason to be nervous about eternity. No reason at all. Or . . . was there?
B. Valdez 9.19.13