One Thousand Years: Genesage " Sanity" (Chp 5:1)

One Thousand Years

Genesage

" Sanity"

(Chp 5:1)

Tom was again dreaming, or living, or dying..,

He was losing touch with reality. Like any insanity it was almost humorous. Hysteria was just around the corner. All he had to do was to take just a few steps in that direction.

Just a few…,

Not too many steps that might be too hard…, but this was easy. Just a few steps up around the bend.  That was funny he thought. Up around the Bend. Maybe He was on a “bender”.

Choosing to follow his thoughts, maybe if he crawled he could get there.  Maybe my mind is bent, he giggled hysterically.

Almost there.., he thought.

It was strange to say the least.

To be one minute in total darkness. Not the night with stars in it, or the cloud cover reflecting the city lights but complete blackout. “Lights Out” didn’t fit, this was more.

The entire world without light. Electricity had lost its principles of science. The tools were there, the batteries were there, the capability there. It just didn’t work. Electricity had ceased to function. Why? Tom never had a chance to think about.

And that was funny…,

Eyes were so seared none could sense light anyways. What do you expect? See God and Live?  Darkness of soul, surely the darkest of intent, and nary a light to draw upon or a beacon to follow. Hope removed, help denied, if eyes were ever to see again it had better bring something more than illumination. Even in the dark, darkness had its own dark light.

Which really made it darker still.

But who knew that?

To be with hunger, starvation, lack of sleep, lack of death and all the world looking and feeling like purgatory, that was bad, but no light?

It was like having your eyes closed and they were open. Like straining always to see and there was nothing to see but to perceive and imagine.

The denial of sight was worse than sight itself.

Purgatory he snickered, maybe his Catholic friends were right.

Maybe there was a purgatory and he had found Dante merely a harbinger of the World as it is, was, or..,

He couldn't keep his mind focused.

And Why?  Why? Why go on? Why think? Why breathe?  After all, All was gone, everything, everyone. No one he cared about living . No one caring if he lived or died. No one cared about anything anymore.  In fact someone wanted very much for him to die, but even that had been taken away.

But who cared? Who?

He didn't.

The next moment there was light.

Having light, too much light, blinding light, the light was not good.

It didn't shine: it burned; it beat; it hurt; it stabbed; it revealed. The light was everywhere. What could have passed in the darkness as something else was now cast into the utter blatancy of truth and light was it's judge.

Now He could see what was around him.

He could see his own arms, hands, the bodies and carcasses so obvious now.

So easy to be seen, everything about him was revealed.  He realized he hadn't been walking on solid ground he had been standing on dead bodies. The entire courtyard was full of mangled rotting flesh and bodies merely left to feed the carrion.

The Fowls were feeding and Thomas was standing in the main course.

And…well….frankly… an angel landing with enormous wings telling you to stand next to a total stranger.

Something was wrong with that scene. One he could accept, the other was to surreal. It was impossible to be real, so he must be mad.

Being scooped up by the angelic didn’t change anything. This was impossible. You and two others, up, and flying off to Jerusalem. Or so he was told. This is real? Not!

Rescue? Hah! The worst cruel joke.

It was all so obvious now. It was self-evident. The truth was before him. It wasn’t “out there”. He knew the Truth and he wasn’t set free. It was so funny that he actually heard laughing.

Someone was laughing and he wanted to join in.

The laughter was all around him and with sudden alacrity he realized his mouth was moving. His lips were cackling. His voice was the noise. He had made it. He had finally crossed the line of sanity. There was no denying it now. He had done it. He had made it around the bend and there was so looking back now. It was almost a relief. He now knew.

This is what it was like to be insane.

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