Jsog the cave dweller

Once upon a time, not a time in the past or the in future but a parallel time, “now” being the closest our primitive vocabulary can convey, there will be/is/was a cave dweller named Jsog. Jsog was forever living in the damp, the cold, the dark, alone. Most the time Jsog was not happy or sad. Jsog just was. Expending time, existing. Feeling nothing. Knowing nothing. Jsog would not even know things could be better if not for the distant memories of better things occasionally rising up and floating around in the misty darkness. A reminder of sight and a sadness of loss.
 
    One day as Jsog sat alone in the dark, and feeling especially uncomfortable but trying not to think too much about how cold the cave is, and how wet the rocks are, there was a sudden noise. A crack and a crumbling. At once the cave was filled with blinding light. Jsog was taken aback by its intensity and afraid and uncertain but along with the light came warmth. Warmth that Jsog had not known for a long time. Not time beyond memory but too distant to remember the true experience of it. Jsog was afraid to leave those familiar surroundings but drawn irresistibly by a longing for comfort and warmth and happiness that had become inconceivable and even worse, a torture.

    Stepping hesitantly, trembling, rising from that dark world Jsog fell forward upon the grass. It was green. Not grey or dark brown or black but bright, intense, beautiful green and a scent. An aroma that was not dank or musty but thick and warm and pleasant. Breathing became a joy and seeing a rapture. For long Jsog cared for nothing else but those simple pleasures but eventually, as the shock wore off, Jsog looked up. Standing majestically, amazingly tall with limbs outstretched to revel in the joy and nourishment of the sunlight, was a tree. With an effort of mind and will Jsog stood up. Stood and like the tree reveled in the warm yellow glow of the sunlight.

    Surrounded by color and sounds and smells, slowly Jsog turns, taking in the surrounding panorama until struck suddenly by the dark, misty hole. The life Jsog had come to know. Now too ugly to bear. Jsog was determined not to return to that place ever again and would venture forth and live in the new world. But this new world was not without its dangers. Amongst the undergrowth crept predators, snuffling and growling and out of the heavens a darkness was brewing. The wind picked up and the sky darkened. Light flashed in jagged pillars of fire and water poured from the sky. The trees limbs now swinging violently at unseen enemies. Savage eyes glowing in the shadows of surrounding foliage. Snarling and gnashing of viscous mandibles, drooling, lined with razor sharp teeth. The wind became a gale, the rain; falling projectiles of ice.

    Jsog ran and dove for the cover of the cave. No longer a dungeon but a fortress. Then a loud rumble and the hillside breaks free under the torrents of new rain. Unleashing an avalanche of stone and earth covering the opening and sealing Jsogs fate. And there Jsog sat. In the damp, cold, dark, alone. Expending time, existing. Feeling nothing. Knowing nothing. Jsog would not even know things could be better if not for the memories of better things rising up and floating around in the misty darkness. A reminder of sight and a sadness of loss.