Down Below

The sky just cracked open.

Boom.

And that old, cold memory

came rushing back,

a tidal wave

of damp concrete.

That smell.

Earth, rot, and fear.

The single bare bulb

swaying like a pendulum,

casting long, thin shadows

that swallowed everything.

We used to go down there

when the wind howled,

when the house groaned

like a dying animal.

And the air was thick,

a blanket you couldn't shake off.

Waiting.

Just waiting for the quiet

to finally come back.