SOMEWHERE
In a hidden corner of the city far removed from the chaos outside lay a secret tunnel. A dark and damp space that felt like a forgotten piece of history. Within its confines a tall mid-aged man struggled against the chains that bound him. His wrists chafed against the cold iron hook protruding from the wall and his body ached from the effort. His eyes once vibrant and full of life were now gouged out leaving him in a world of darkness. A strip of tape sealed his lips rendering him voiceless. He could hear the faintest sounds from outside and a distant murmur of voices or the shuffle of feet or the occasional clatter of metal. Each sound ignited a flicker of hope within him but as quickly as it came it faded into despair. Desperately he strained to listen to feel any sign of movement that might mean his captors were near. Whenever a shadow flitted past the vintage stone ventilator set high in the wall, he would try to scream but alas! no sound emerged but only the dry rasp of a throat parched from days without water. The air was thick and musty. It was heavy with the scent of mildew and decay mirroring the weight of his memories. He recalled the faces of the orphans he had passed on the streets. Their hollow eyes reflecting the pain of hunger and despair. They had been left to fend for themselves writhing in agony as they begged for food and shelter. Their suffering haunted him. His distress and helplessness was a constant reminder of the life he had lived one marked by selfishness and greed.
Karma he realized had a way of catching up with those who thought they could escape its grasp. As he hung there memories flooded his mind. Memories of a time when he had the power to help but instead chose to ignore it. He had turned away while those children suffered thinking only of his own ambitions. Now as he sat shackled in this dark tunnel, he understood that his past misdeeds had led him to this very moment. Karma never lost it's address. He recalled his wrong deeds.