the dungeon has...

BEGINNING:

“Damned birds!”

He stared up through the grating at the wheeling shapes of darkness, squealing in the hot red sky. They circled, longing for prey.

Dust stung his eyes and clogged his throat. He coughed, increasing his feelings of dizziness and dehydration.

One hand grabbed a bar to steady himself, but instantly he jumped back. The sun had turned the metal bars into a radiator, burning his hands.

Perspiring, he slumped backwards into the dark shadows, no comfort even there. He sat, wondering how he had got himself caught in this boiling pit.

The birds were free, yet they chose to stay. He would do otherwise. He longed for their freedom.....

ENDING:

Nothing had changed. The cell was still a boiling inferno of light. He had come full-circle, had chosen to stay. Returning to the heat of the cell.

Perhaps he had never left. His mind was the burning pit. Reality, or end, who could say. He was the cell, was the sun, sky, and dust.

Welcome to hell.

The birds wheeled in the sky above.

“Damned birds!”

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