“Pass the light up here,” a voice beyond the door shouted. It was strong and masculine in the way of someone who worked hard all of his life, not at all like the scientists and intellectuals that she had spent most of her life dealing with.
“Help me,” Margaret said as she reached for the gap in the door. Her hand brushed the light and she was shocked to see her skin stretched tight over delicate bone. Her fingernails were gone ant the tips of her fingers a bloody mess of torn skin and muscle.
“Holy shit! There’s someone alive in there!” The light grew brighter and Margaret closed her eyes as the sting of it touched them. Dave, call a medical team. The rest of you guys help get this door open.” The sound of mechanical equipment grinding and tearing at the obstructions on the other side of the door was mixed with the grunts and yells of men exerting themselves in an effort to rescue Margaret from her tomb.
The door slid open two more feet and light flooded the safety room with a brilliance that ignored Margaret’s eyelids. The shock of it was too much for her and the world went from bright to dark in a heartbeat as she passed out and her head hit the floor.
- “We are sending you light, to heal you, to hold you…” …. a gentle song of comfort, love and compassion (pocketperspectives.wordpress.com)
- waiting for the mailman (shisomama.wordpress.com)
- Truth from Under the Door (maryjanegoodman.com)