She hated her self in
this Moment, sliding down the walls, to the great captured belly of
her soul like a high waste bin, full with the clobbered entrails of
discard, that now surrounded her; thrown away no-use twists of
rubber. The walls rose up, straight and unclimb- able, no foot holds,
no space to grip. Instead she was stuck fast, looking upwards to the
far off impossible and a distant patch of sky, that remained
distinctly blue. Here in the belly of her suffering she could still
see the far off changes; light, wind direction, air-speed, as the world
beyond continued to pass by. All she could do was wait, for what?
Rescue? Or for the great walls of the high tomb to un-make themselves?. She kept
her eyes firmly raised to the distance and sat sat immovable in the
coils of rubbery black. Eyes always and forever trained upward,
focused firmly on the light. MB
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