When was the last time you wrote to yourself? The question burned like a slow fuse in his mind. The blank sheets ruffled in the slow breeze from the ceiling fan. The day was just beginning to stir from a rainy night's slumber. His coffee was going cold fast, just like his heart. Today, he said aloud, I will write a note to myself. The wind chimes on his balcony door laughed. He walked past them and stepped out of his 13th floor apartment into thin air. While gravity was furiously dragging him he made a mental note. It said, hello stranger, here ends our journey.
He couldn't keep count of the days or nights as he was always surrounded by darkness. No he wasn't blind nor did someone blindfold him. He fell in to a deep dark hole that's all. He was rushing to catch the last train home. Since it was getting late he decided to take the shortcut. Before he fell, all that he saw was a lamppost by the tracks. The impact of the fall switched off the lights in his brain. When he recovered, it was dark. He tried to feel his way around. But to his surprise all that he could feel was the darkness around him. It was as if he was encased in a thick gooey dark liquid. It held him tight. It moved with his movements. It felt as if he was part of the liquid. He floated in it. He never felt hungry or cold. In fact he felt comfortable. For the first time, he felt safe. Slowly he began to forget what he was and whom he knew. In this darkness, it was impossible to wrack his brain. Everything was slowly getting shrouded in darkness. Until that day when he ...
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