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In Here
by Harry Buschman
There are times of light and dark in here. I prefer the light times, there is movement all around me then, and sound, too – it is wonderful to hear. When it is dark, it is quiet and the only sound I hear is a double thump; thump, bump – thump bump. A rhythm so regular it lulls me to sleep. So I have learned to regulate my existence by the light and the dark – and the sound.
When the dark comes I seem to lose my senses and I drift away. I pass into a state of unconsciousness which I think is similar to the state I was in before all this began. How would I know such things? I am aware now and I am not aware in the dark – that is why.
The space is confining. It was larger in here just a short time ago, but now I can reach out and touch the sides – the warm smooth sides of my cell. Perhaps the space is the same and I am growing larger ... whichever it is, I am obsessed by the thought that I will not be here much longer. There is something waiting for me outside. There must be more than this. It will be exciting, I believe – I will be outside of where I am now. Outside is where the sound is, the light and the dark come from there. I’m sure I will be very afraid, but I also believe I will find safety and assurance outside, and Oh, there will be much to learn.
But I have already learned a great deal. I learned the difference between light and dark very quickly, and now I am beginning to recognize the sounds from outside. They are like music – sometimes together and sometimes alone – there is one sound I hear more than any of the others. It has been with me from the very beginning, it was in fact the first sound I remember. When I leave here this will be the sound I want to see.
©Harry Buschman 2008
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The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.
Walt Whitman
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