The Light

An experiment in messing with words:

I follow the corridor from the beginning to the end. I'm not sure where I'll end up, down the rabbit hole I go, but I become aware of the shadows flickering either side of me. Above, lights fuzz out and in, like some orchestral score with peaks and lows, flashing morse code, dot dot dash as I walk below. I look at the shadows, walking beside them, my friends till the end, and it's when I'm watching them, dancing across the walls, the corridor long and winding and without an end in sight, that I realize that the shadows don't make *sense*. They should be of me, shouldn't they? But men and women and children and pets walk by me, cars rush by, and then... The lights fail. Complete darkness. I freeze, and in the distance, I hear the roar of traffic, the chattering of women, the droning of men. Children cry and scream and shriek, and then the lights come on and--