despair
11 January 2000

Her body crumpled on impact at the bottom of the seemingly endless hole. When she finally twisted her neck to look up, there was no light from above to meet her eyes. Finding the opening of the hole was like staring out at the Atlantic, just over the horizon, trying to find the mysterious continents that maps, televisions, and teachers taught her to believe in.

The cool, thick mud clung underneath her fingernails as she dug her hands into the earth below her. She longed to go deeper, urged to be wrapped in more disaster.

The only way out was through.

What's your hole?