Light at the end of the tunnel . . .

“Oh, no! What’s this narrow tunnel?! Why am I squeezed so hard? Why is it so bright? Man! Hurts my eyes! What’s this noise? Why is my silence broken with a shrill like this? Why so much pain? Ok no! Where is my oxygen pipe? God I want to breathe! I want to listen to those beats! I don’t understand a thing here! Ok I am halfway through. Where are my legs? Ouch. Ouch OUCH! I guess I have to take the plunge. Arrrgh I am out! Why no shrill now? Eh where am I? I feel like I am thrown between bridges. Ah I am back to the same heartbeats! But this place feels different! Too much light and chaos. May I please go back to my home? It feels very lonely and strange here! Why was I jumping places before landing on this beat drum again?  This is so uncomfortable! Where’s my sleeping bag? Put me back there, I order! I was happily swimming and kicking in my sleeping bag. Someone pushed me out through that scary tunnel and now it is all bright and I am lost! It’s all blur! Will no one understand me? Isn’t there one person who understands my pain? “

And the hospital room was filled with tears of joy. The father looked on, in awe. “I love you and I will always be there for you sweetheart, no matter what – forever and for always!” whispered the mother.

Prompt – this blog post is my response to ‘The Daily Post’ ‘s prompt Blur.


Author: gogal

Pensive pen. Nostalgic nutella. Read through, and you wont regret.

4 thoughts on “Light at the end of the tunnel . . .”

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