It was an illusion. Every numbed sensation, every untraceable hue, a mere nothing. It would pass – it must. Though formless darkness pledge insanity of ever-night, its promise was made already broken. Why? Where hope is life thrives, and where life is hope lives. And this symbiotic existence preserved itself, solitary and strong, in a single beating heart. Ring upon golden ring echoed out through cavernous darkness as every pulse fell, like a drop of liquid light, into the empty silence: Hope . . . life . . . hope . . . life . . . hope . . . life . . . hope . . . Each beat rang, sounding one against the other with a harmony like pealing bells.

“It’s just an illusion,” Enid whispered, nurturing her hope and reaping life, “There is an end and it will come. All I have to do is wait.”

Wait – but for how long? Eternity? The heart skipped a beat. In the darkness there opened a ring of unbroken blackness. Tighter pressed the sealed eyes as silently they gazed only within.

“No,” Enid said, “Even eternity must end in light. All things end in light.”

And so Enid spoke softly to her heart, enlivening it with scenes of hope and hoping for life in that which would surely come.

“Darkness must end somewhere, sometime,” said she, “If I hope strong enough, perhaps the light will find me!”

Faster rang the peals of light as broader grew their golden bands. Like water over-flowing from a fount the light spilled farther and deeper into the darkness, sealing over every break and shrinking the parched voids until the very last hole had been smoothed over by ripples of gold. Such a wealth of light glowed from within her that Enid felt as if the very glory of it would burst her heart asunder. With a smile like dawn she opened her eyes.

Shadows melted and darkness was torn apart before the sword-like beams of her lifted gaze. Richer than white and purer than gold; sweeter than silver and brighter than the brightest sunrise, the rays streamed from her eyes into the crumbling darkness.