ECHOLESS CAVE

A xxxxxxxxxx tale. Timothy had heard of the cave. It was dark, and round. He had a candle, so he could see for a short distance around him, but there were dark corners and crevices, and some said wild animals lived in them, and ate whatever came into the cave. Tonight, he was about to find out if this was true. He had a gun with him, just in case. There was no chance of an amiable territorial discussion with wild beasts. Ooooooooooo. Can you hear me? His voice tapered off into silence. He thought he heard a vague booming noise, from deep inside the cave, then nothing. Only the pounding of his own blood in his temples. It would be a long time before he would have the opportunity to repeat this experience. He had come a long way to this cave which was renowned for its magical healing properties. A cave without an echo, it was claimed, helped those who were in difficulty to talk things through, and come up with a spectacular solution. In this cave, he was about to save his own life. By discovering who he was. Slowly but surely, he started to talk. "I remember a time when I felt a keen urge to scream above the sea, scream into the sea, and not be heard because of the roar of the waves, and when, after a long time, I finally did find myself at the coast, on a beach, I had absolutely nothing to say, and didn’t make a peep. The waves were so loud, I could never have made myself heard above them. Still I have this image of a woman standing on a shore, weeping. Am I the one responsible for her grief? I try singing. I like the sound of my own voice, it fills the cave. But doesn’t bounce off the walls as you would expect of a cave. So what are the walls made of? Some ultra-light, resistant, innovative, sound-absorbing material? Time was indeed of the essence. He took out his watch, and studied it carefully. It ticked.