It was dim. Dim and dark and dank. Musty pores of yesteryear, no eye could see. A pressing wind billowed, forced and funneled forming a dusty whirling wipe across the eye til closed it winced at the pressure. Forward, floundering a dirt filled hand, reached out to the hardened rock. A ray of light. Light, warm as it fell over the bruised skin, lacing around one arm into a direction. A ray, a beam so warm. And then out! A sigh. Into the light, away from the darkened path.