The Tunnel

January 21, 2009
By Momoko O'Leary, Barrington, IL

Entering into the tunnel, you can still feel the warmth of the outside air,
the sunlight still shines in through the opening, and the wind still gently rustles your hair.
Yet the shadows are cunning.
They watch every move you make.
Holding back, they lull you into a sense of security.
But they are only waiting,
waiting to strike when you are most vulnerable.

Slowly the shadows begin to make their move.
It gets darker and darker, as they swallow up the sunshine with their big gaping mouths.
You turn on your headlights, but they are not quite bright enough.
Looking for guidance, you yell out at the passing cars,
but they do not understand.
Their headlights pierce through the darkness, that is rapidly sucking you down like quicksand.
As you struggle to see what is head of you, panic drags a cold finger down your back.

Alone and disoriented, you labor to make out the sharp curves and bends that hide in the gloom ahead.
Every time you begin to feel as though you are in control,
the shadows carry out their scheming plan.
You suddenly come upon a devilish turn,
stomping on the break, you struggle with the wheel as you blindly follow the dark, twisting road,
sinking deeper into the dark pit of despair.

It seems as though the shadows have won.
Your soul has been stretched thin.
Happiness no longer has a meaning,
hope is for the naive,
and warmth has no pleasure.

But suddenly you become aware of a strange sensation.
Like an old friend, you feel the familiar touch of the wind as it gently brushes against your cheek
The shadows seem less daunting as a dim light begins to light up the tunnel.
Emotions you had forgotten radiate from you once more,
as you speed towards the ever growing opening.
Then, suddenly, you are back under the warm welcoming sunshine.
The tunnel grows smaller and smaller, nothing more that a bad dream.

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