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Flash Fiction: “A Castle of Souls”

My feet pad silently on floors of unforgiving stone, the tread of each step having worn smooth a circuit around the small room. I have long since stopped searching the walls with arms outstretched, seeking an opening, some small crevice with which to cling to in this claustrophobic darkness. Sadly, I find nothing. The clammy walls pitter-patter with rivulets of dampness, the air thick and suffocating.

One more step. Then another. The number of my footfalls have been lost to the ages. I reach out wasted fingers to brush the passing wall, nails dig into the divets packed tight with mortar. On and on hunting, searching, seeking out an end to that monotony of wet stone. Trace them up, trace them down. Nothing. Nothing.

Am I back at the beginning again? Was there ever a beginning?

I pause. I can’t breathe.

Confined within these walls my body continues it’s relentless search. In this abyss, my soul seeks out its unrequited salvation. Freedom comes only at the gentle touch of cold, wet stone on flesh, again and again.

One more step. Then another. The number of my footfalls have been lost to the ages.

(Word Count: 194)

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