Chiaoscuro

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He felt the comfort of soft, thick, dusty clay under his tiny legs as he moved his bony little feet...up, down,up,down and squeezed his toes.
He lay on his mat but always slid down to allow the softness of the cool clay floor on his legs.
He drew in a deep breath and with it came the smells of safety filling his lungs as his bony rib cage expanded and stomach swelled.
Earth, pine drifting in on the warm night air, rotting fruit and burning wood.
His expressive little face turned toward the source of aroma, the only source of light.
Light that flickered, brightened, then moved away and different coloured light took its place.
The morphing light cast beautiful patterns on the floor through the rough hole in his wall and where it touched his toes turned them shades of deep orange and gold ochre.
The light made his long, sooty eyelashes shine and his large, gentle eyes were dancing shades of amber and copper..spotlights of bright in the black cupboard.
He couldn't see anything else.
He wasn't frightened.
He trusted implicitly.
The rhythm of his breathing and inflation then fall of his round little stomach slowly eased him into sleep.