Image by Jennifer Pendergast
Out, Brief Candle
“What will happen, you know, after the switch...?”
“That’s out of my area Mrs Grey. That’s religion... or philosophy.”
First was the light. Blinding, bright, remote, high above me.
I shivered and shuffled forward, feet numb and clumsy.
Spiral stairs, and a cold steel handrail.
I paused, bare toes hovering above the first step.
I glanced behind. A blank emulsioned wall had replaced the darkness. No door, no window, stippled and clean.
My feet slapped the concrete risers, a human metronome echoing off the curving walls.
The top landing revealed a small door.
“Come in my Boy.”
This story was written for a prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields' Friday Fictioneers - but is a follow on from last week's story 'Grey's Elegy' written for Angela Goff's Visual Dare