. The girl stood, trembling, staring up into the aperture, her only connection to any living thing. Sometimes when the light was right, a vague grayness penetrated the downward tunnel and it eased her panic somewhat.

Shakily, she tried humming that old familiar tune- "now, if I had the wings of an angel..." and strove mightily to be brave, but at the same time she was scared to death. She started as a beetleskittered its way across the cold stone floor of her cell, the only home she had ever known. She knew she was a prisoner, that there was another way of life out there. Her mother had read her books, provided by that old man up there, taught her to read and write, related to her many stories, sang her songs, held her, hugged her, kept her warm...Big tears fell from her eyes and ran down her dirty cheeks making little trails as they went.Summer Dancer willed herself to not think about her mother who was gone many years now. To do so did not good at all. Except to make her feel bad. Like now.

But she was becoming more and more frightened with each passing minute. Ever since the downpour began a couple of days ago. She could hear the water rising and gushing below her as it tumbled through the underground tunnels and passageways. She could almost feel it as it inched nearer and nearer.

That man who dwelt above had not been around for quite awhile now. Not that she missed his presence, but he DID provide food now and then. At least he used to. She wondered what had happened to him. If he died or was hurt, she would perish too, down in this dank hole. She would die like a trapped animal.

Luckily, she had laid aside some dried smoked fish which was nearly gone, and a handful of rotting berries. The stale bread was gone long ago. Rodents were beginning to surface along with the rising waters. They were hungry too. She began to think about snatching that beetle off the ground and see what he tasted like.

Not yet.

She heard a bubbling sound and looked down, using the flashlight with a bulb so dim now, it hardly served its purpose. Oh, my God!

The water is gurgling up from the brook in the fissure and spreading out over her rock floor. Her feet curled up, but there was no escaping the deluge that she knew, deep down, was coming her way.

She had no choice but to try to claw her way up those jagged walls of the pit again as she had attempted so many times before until her hands were all bloody and raw. No choice at all.

"Now if I had wings of an....." she whispered, prayed, beneath her breath.