Rain pelted the soil just outside the mouth of the cave, so close in distance but worlds away. The cave was damp with beads of water running like sweat down an arched back. The rock was smooth and hard beneath my shaking hands -- hands that migrated with a mind of their own up the spine and back around the shoulder.
The cave burst suddenly, a barely audible gasp, and the walls were illuminated with millions of speckled lights, shining like stars in the blackest of nights. I returned to reality and saw myself scraped and bloodied and clumped with mud, slithers of fabric hanging from what used to be a beautiful dress.
My hand continued to search, hiding the glittering walls with a dark slinking outline. The cave turned and wound endlessly, the stone tickled my fingers and toes. The air was still and sacred and its smell was ancient, as if no one had ever violated such sanctity. I reached the last corner and I knew it was the end before I rounded; finalization rang out soundlessly and the gods became excited around me. The air began to shift and unsettle while the stars danced and sang and prayed.