Heart Cave

There is no more howling wind. It's warm now. The air is moist and thick. David opens his eyes, and realizes the black was nothing more than the backside of his eyelids. He can see a doorway. There's a soft red haze in the air, filling the chamber with a gentle light. He's in a cave, built at the surface of the Earth.

His hands are covered in dirt, he's sitting on the ground. He takes his tattered coat off, and walks around the length of the walls. Sap is leaking from the rock face. There's a human shape strung from the ceiling. He smirks at it, finds it tacky. Of all the things to be found in a cave, that seems to be the most ridiculous.

Where is this place? David remembers leaving the factory, walking home through the snow, waiting patiently to reach town where he can eat and drink. He checks his pockets for a cigarette. There's nothing in them. Has he fallen in a hole? There's a portion of his brain that feels foggy, strained in trying to remember anything besides the snow above, and the cold that comes with it.

There's a light coming through the doorway, glowing to the rhythm of David's pulse. It's the only way to go.