I awoke and found myself in an unfamiliar gray space, my aching body supine on a smooth concrete floor. Through a squarish opening somewhere above my head, a narrow beam of light illuminated dust motes in the air and allowed me to discern the extent of the room. The floor was about ten feet by ten feet. I pulled myself into a sitting position with my back against the outside wall. Good God! I realized that the room had no door. I searched the space above for some sense of the ceiling but saw only an endless column of darkness.
Note: See But Wait! There’s More…. for an explanation of the 100 Words project, or read the next installment.
© 2008 Edward F. Gumnick
Two comments: Dust motes are always in the air, and, how do you know it’s an outside wall? (Although I like the metaphor of a writer with his back against the wall.)
I would argue that, at the very least, a “mote” could also be in one’s brother’s eye. (Cf. Matt 7:3. ) But your point is well taken. It’s a cliché at best.
He’s inferring that it‘s the outside wall because the light is coming from beyond the wall behind him. But he might be wrong.