Shuffling sideways, you slip silently between the wall and the refrigerator into a small room you never guessed was there. Reaching out by memory, you find a naked light hanging down, down from the twelve foot ceiling. Beside the socket—-where many a bulb has hung before—-there dangles a small pull switch.
Dirtied with grime by literal hands of time, this small switch holds a story all its own. How many fingers have reached up and blindly pulled it? How many eyes have been illuminated by the sudden light? How many stories could each hand tell, if hands could speak rather than touch?
Even here, the truths of history are whispered. Life is so much more than just right now. How we came to where we are speaks of where we are going. What we do with our lives will be remembered into the future. Not even the pull of a small bell-shaped light switch can escape the consequences of time.