Into the Darkness of the Earth

All about me was fine, deep dust and shreds which even then smelt in my palm like remnants of fur and skins. In that subterranean place, summer and winter were alike, unknown. The trivial changes that vexed the cuticle of the world were here reduced to an unalterable average of gentle warmth. It was like some thin, sunless vintage that had mellowed endless years in the great that of the earth. And it now ran with the effect of a delicate tonic through my inert frame. You cannot wonder therefore that i throve apace and explored with increasing strength the limits of my strange imprisonment.