An Eternity Too Long

It was dark and lonely and cold, this prison she was in. There was nothing but darkness, bleak and oppressive. She slid in and out of dreams; she slid in and out of nightmares. Sometimes she wondered whether she was floating or falling. Perhaps both. Maybe neither.

No matter how she strained her eyes, she simply could not see. She had not seen for centuries. Maybe her eyes did not work any longer. She did not know or care about what went on outside her prison.

The only object of any dimension was the isolated slab of stone on which she lay. It put a cramp between her shoulder blades, but she did not always mind. The pain allowed her to still know that she was alive.

Every few millennia, a bright flash of light would penetrate her unique dimension. The phenomenon happened so rarely that she hardly remembered the last one when the next occurred. She put a taloned hand to her eyes, wiping the blood from her brow. She wished that she wasn't quite so alone.  

Eternity, she decided, was quite a long time.