Vintage Writing - Through Darkness

I wrote this on April 26th, 2003, according to the little note I left at the bottom of its original post...which I believe was on Pile of Crap back in the day. I'm rather glad I did that...left the note, I mean, since otherwise, I'd have no idea when I'd actually written it.

Anyway, I was reading it over again, and I don't think I would change any of it, awkward phrases included. It's rare that I would say that about a piece of writing of mine, especially one that's as old as this one is.

Other bit of back history...I wrote it before I took any writing classes. I think, in many ways, I was a much better writer back then. I didn't know the rules, and so didn't care if I broke them.

Whatever...hope you like.

Through darkness I strode, in the fullness of a dream, watching wearily the solid black, though I could see nothing. And yet, my steps knew their purpose, and heading, and my legs moved of their own accord, so while even though I could see not a thing, I could walk and be unworried that I would trip.

Wearily still, however, I peered around, hoping that I could discover something that I could see, and perhaps learn of how I came to be in this place, where there is no light. But I could see nothing, hear nothing except a dull echo of my foot steps upon the inky black floor, and could feel nothing except a slight, very slight, breeze from my passing.

And so I walked, into time uncounted, wondering and wandering across a void so profound that even its presence began to weigh heavily on my heart, and my steps - firm until now - faltered, and stopped. I could not move. What had once been a comfortable walk, albeit a weary one, was now sorrow unbound. I felt now tears on my face.

A vision came to me then, in the back of my mind, although I could see nothing through my physical eyes. A vision of a smile, a look, a glint of blonde in weary weather, a laugh and a fond remembrance of a joy long shared, of lying on a hill top and watching clouds drift lazily above, slowly and away, of a hand holding mine...

I remembered now my purpose, to find him on the other side of the darkness. I had forgotten, in my long walk, what it was that I had been looking for, but, now I knew, more deeply than I had ever known, exactly what it was that I had lost. And now had to find.

With a cry that echoed as dully as my footsteps, I lurched forward, breaking into a run. My heart knew now where I had to go, and to that place I ran and never grew weary. Sounds returned to my ears; laughter, tears - waves upon a shore. Feeling returned to my face; a caress, a chaste kiss, hair upon my cheek. Scent returned to me - summer rain and summer fields, and the wind off the ocean. And finally, most wonderfully, sight!

For an instant I was blinded, the deep darkness through which I had come had left my eyes starved for sight, but unused to it. Pain at first, but it was bearable. The brightness faded, and I saw his face, looking down at me from above, and I knew.

Through darkness I had come - and I was Home.