Standing in darkness I couldn’t help but wonder, what next?
I couldn’t confirm for a fact whether I stood in a room or a dark alley way … but the only reality then was darkness.
I waved my hands in the air as I moved around. My hands fell upon a small box which had what I felt were darts. A few of them. The box was solid, I could feel it but whether it was placed on a table or if it was supported in some other sort was beyond me. I picked up the darts and aimed at infinity. I didn’t know what else to do. I shot the first dart, it left my hands and then vanished into darkness. It was unsettling to not know what I was aiming for, where the dart-board was. So much uncertainty.
Thinking if I change directions and try again, I might find the target I picked up the next dart and threw it in the direction which I felt would find the target. Another dart lost for nothing, but the urge to find the target still remained. I picked up yet another dart and I failed to find the target again. Disappointed but somehow the whole process got me addicted to it. Who ever said failure was addictive? or the urge to try and find the target was?
I carried on firing darts in all the possible directions but to my dismay none had hit the board. Obviously I had to rely on my ears, eyes were useless in this given situation. But once the dart left my hand, it was opportunity missed as usual. Half a dozen of darts and no result.
I move forward waving my hands, not in search of light but in search of more darts…