A small crew of the Washington Academy 7th Graders went down into the tunnel — the entire grade couldn’t go because someone had to monitor the FBI. As they moved away from the tunnel opening and the fluorescent light bars in the room above, they learned how dark things could really be.
True darkness is not something we experience often in our current existence. Headlights and taillights add to the beams from the light stanchions on the road. Indoors at night, there is the glow from the alarm clock, or the blinking of the phone, or even an air purifier emitting a blue glow. These days we have light pollution from all the artificial light sources.
The tunnel narrowed and Curtis’s arm jogged against hers (Rhonda’s) as they walked.
“It’s all right. Getting tight here.” She took her eyes off the ground for a second and her cheeks burned when he smiled at her. Good thing he couldn’t see her cheeks turn red in the dim light.
Their voices bounced eerily through the tunnel, echoing against the rock. She wouldn’t want to be down here alone. Scary.
Curtis stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Single file ahead.”
Rhonda turned. With the light from the torch playing over their faces, it reminded her of evil witch and wizard cartoons when they stood over a flickering cauldron. Dennis and Maddie brought up the rear, and they were virtually silhouettes with the occasional gleam when the light touched on their hair. “Do we want to turn some flashlights on or light another torch?”
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