The Dark Cave
Faults within faults, shadows form in darkness. The nude woman gently tests her footing on the slippery rock at the base of the cave, gripping hard edges to steady herself as she moves further into the vast wet chamber. Over millennia the force of the sea has exposed, pummelled and forced open the soft veins of this ancient stone but amazingly, in what seems almost perpetual night, life clings to the ribbed surfaces far inside. Sounds of the day are muffled, save for the relentless roar of the waves at low tide. It’s cool in here and the woman shivers in the damp air, her skin and muscles taut, her senses heightened to the strange environment.
In a moment she finds herself wading through a deep, smooth-bottomed pool and she inhales sharply as the water pushes between her open thighs. The water shallows and she feels painful hard pebbles and small boulders beneath her delicate feet. She is almost invisible now and only the crunching sound of the shingle reveals her location. Then there is silence for a short while. As my eyes adjust, a gentle prick of light pierces the darkness beyond and gradually becomes more distinct. I now realise this is not just a cave it’s a tunnel. Across the small circle of light moves the slender silhouette of the woman and in a blink of the eye she was gone.