The room was filled with inky blackness, and only the faintest glow of light could be seen from around the edges of the door. Once in a while, that faint light flickered, announcing the existence of someone in the hall. The sounds behind the door were mostly low and muffled, but every now and then, a shrill scream or clanking of metal could be heard. The most alarming sounds were the sudden scuffles of feet and the dragging of nails across wooden floorboards. Stifled whimpers often followed the tousles, along with deep moans and echoing groans. Sometimes the light beneath the door would abruptly disappear and then reappear as footsteps faded away. It was a lonesome place, with very little to do, but the sounds could stretch the mind, and for that, it was anything but uninspiring.
Amid the chaos of our cluttered world, sometimes we have only but a past moment, something distinctly different from all the other colorless days. And that one solitary moment, the one we treasure with fondness and love gives us something to cling to when we can no longer see a single thread of light. Those rare moments exist to reassure us during the times when the dark dares to snuff out our light. That one blessed memory is often what unexpectedly sees us through.