Page 45 - Contrast1989

CONfRAST 1989

dampened the walls. The constant dripping of
water had left permanent streaks of time in the
expressionless stone, alongside Adam's own
daily marks. And in the crevices between the
stone, some grey mossy substance grew. Some-
times, a trickle of water would collect in a little
puddle and Adam could have watched some
small amount of dust swirl on the surface and
be swept under the cracks at the base of the wall
and disappear. But, for the most part, the walls
remained an inactive support of Adam's bleak
sky.

The ceiling was high and dim and always a
little out of focus. Strings of broken cobwebs
veiled the corners and Adam always had the
impreSsion of looking up into a hazy grey sky,
heavy with rain. Some array of cracks scored
the ceiling making Adam think of an old, veined
hand pressing down on him, especially when the
fresh daylight was used and the window only
filtered reflections of the sun. Generally, how-
ever, Adam reserved his attention for the door.

He always sat, or stood, or moved about
With his eyes to the door. Now, he sat staring
fIxedly at the splintered wood. About three
quarters of the length of the wall was carved for
the door and, though he had never seen the door
open, Adam estimated it to be about five inches
thick. Adam stretched his neck to look up at the
nine feet of unyielding wood. Noticing the varied
knots and gashes in its surface, he crawled
nearer to the door. Whenever he got this close, a
hand always rose to cover his ear from the
clanging of the dream. As his other hand now
pressed to a cold plate of metal that clothed part
of the door, he strained to hear any sound from
the other side. Silence; he waited. Any faint

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