Out of the Black.

Photo by Ylanite Koppens from Pexels

Something moves in the black. Shimmers. Squirms.

I’m used to the darkness, so the movement is startling and uncomfortable somehow, but also mesmerizing. There’s some kind of light, some slight gloss of reflection. It wiggles and twists and I struggle to make sense of it.

Is it a worm? A snake? The thought of it joining me here repulses, but I don’t think I’ve yet guessed right.

It’s changing every moment, struggling, growing in size and — pushing — somehow. Pulsing from somewhere within, it continually lengthens.

And then suddenly it’s changing in a different way and the picture clarifies. The color was off; that’s why I didn’t understand. I should have recognized it, but the environment threw me.

In my life there has been only blank gloom in this space that barred even the smallest fragment of light. I have grown accustomed to the silence. The still sadness of void.

I never expected to see growth here. I didn’t know new life was possible under these conditions. Yet here it is, and I am amazed.

It is a budding branch, green and new and strong. And it is growing fast.

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