Twenty Five Seconds of Bliss

I opened my eyes to find myself in an uncomfortable wooden box locked from the inside. Panicked, I looked for the key frantically till all I found was disappointment. I had to find the key that fit the lock. And so I searched again. And again, while I kept staggering upon splinters of misfortune that kept me locked inside for what felt like days. 

I had begun to notice the aesthetics of the construct of the inside walls; the contours designed by the cracks and the art in the dark green blotches. While I struggled in the dark, the saw dust dancing in the pencil thin ray of stifled optimism found it's way to me through the keyhole. Ah! That sweet yet humid smell of hope. Once it stung my soul, it precipitated and drenched the collars of my anguish and replaced it with a million flickering crimson red candles that consumed me till I was left at the mercy of my belief in a power much higher than my own. I acknowledged it and accepted it. It didn't annihilate me but it grounded me immensely.

As the walls of the box began to crumble around me, I wondered whether I had found the right key or outgrown the constraints of my own box. I ambled onto the streets of my new found perspective with a calm too endearing to behold. There was a sense of quiet inside me that I had never stumbled upon before; the kind of silence that only the colors of a picturesque could contain; sublime and serene yet disturbing to the heart but only enough to bring tears of tenderness to the eyes. And so, while it lasted, I resigned to it in a blissful surrender.