Specks of dust danced upon
a solitary ray of light penetrating the crack in a thick cinder-block wall. Alone now, Chang Ming Xiang focused on these
specks as he pressed his back into the wall and stretched his legs across the
dirt floor. He knew the light’s natural
presence was an oversight by his captors.
Somehow Chang Ming managed to feel privileged for this light’s presence marking
time; an hourglass of coarse sand drifting downward since the day of his
transfer from the internment camp.
He attempted to shield his
mind from those he left behind. Fetal-like,
Chang Ming pressed his knees deep into his chest; rocking his body back and forth
against the wall; the subtle pain of hitting the wall comforting him and
reassuring him that he was now only physically alone. Legions of others existed elsewhere in
suppressed whispers. At once consuming
the energy he struggled to conserve, he felt these rocking movements necessary
to preserve his state of mind and maintain physical stability.
Chang Ming’s mind
struggled to stifle the moments that led to his current circumstance. His
body tarnished and malnourished, suicide would give him a choice in his death’s
protocol. Yet, he knew that his suicide
would be a victory for the enemy. He was
unwilling to relinquish the small gains he and the others had fought for so
long.
To Be Continued…
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