Block

He tried to ignore it, but he cannot and finds, to his dismay, that he has exhausted all the possible means by which it might be exorcised.

He shudders as he looks it in the face and finds that it is as deep as eternity and twice as frightening. Now, now that he has stripped away all the layers he had thrown down to cover it and they lie useless and discarded on the floor like heaps of garish, clashing wallpaper, now that he sees it was there all along, in spite of the useless and foolish facade, he wants to shrink back into himself, like a snail retreating into its shell.

But he cannot do that either as he realises, to his dismay, there is no longer a shell into which he can disappear. He is naked, vulnerable, alone.

There is only himself and the truth; a hard block of solid granite in front of him, blocking his way, and, whichever way he turns, it is there.

He feels helpless, teeters on the verge of hopelessness and considers throwing himself into its abyss, yet something steers him back and urges him to look again.

He stares at the immovable stone pillar, wondering whether it will be easily mastered and all the while the truth stares at him, unblinking and harsh.