The Collapse
It's dark around me. The lantern was ripped from my hands by the collapse and splattered into shrapnel on the bottom of the rock. I can't see a hand in front of me. Not that there is much to see here and I know: the guide had warned me so. Extensively, he had mentioned all possible dangers and I, smart-ass, had let her glide past me smiling.
I am in the darkness around me and feel what I expected: dust and a lot of sharp rock. But unfortunately: no passage. What now? To remove all stones, stronger men than myself are needed, and I don't have that much energy.
The wisest thing is to wait for help. Maybe by tapping rocks against each other, as spill marks, I can make it clear that I'm sitting here.
(c) 2021 Hans van Gemert