He saw a light
He felt that he could hear nothing and then started hearing the sound of bells and then saw a light
He heard a sound and saw a light in a vacuum
He was dreaming strange dreams
He kept hearing noises
He heard a bell
Why did the writer think he was going crazy?
He felt he was one more person for who nothing else mattered
Another found stranded survivor
A crazy person
He was one more scrap to weld and one more survivor who was found
The crew of his saviours
Who is the "Them" the writer refers to being one of?
A ship
The writer was in a vacuum and could not see the light or hear the sound
The saviour ship
The weather
Where did the sound and the light come from?
The writer wasn't listening, didn't care, he was going to live and keep on breathing
He wasn't listening, didnt care, and knew he was going to live
Next to those nothing else mattered
He wasn't listening
He was still a stranded folk
Why did the first words the writer's saviours said mean nothing to him?
Hotel California My first thought: I was going crazy. Twenty-four hours of silence (vacuum, remember); was I hallucinating noises now? I heard it again. It was a fine bell, reminiscent of ancient stone churches and the towering cathedrals I'd seen in documentaries. And accompanying the bell, I saw a light. Now, there were two things here that made ridiculously small amounts of sense. First, the whole in-a-vacuum why's-there-a-bell thing. Second, I was floating in the dark remnants of my broken ship, and any conceivable light sources were not within view; starlight is a distinctly different color and significantly less bright. These signals were the heralds of my saviors. The first words they said to me meant nothing. I wasn't listening; I didn't care; I was going to live; I was going to keep breathing. Next to those, nothing else mattered. The recycled air tasted sweet in my mouth, and all thoughts that crossed my mind were cheap metaphors about life-giving substances and how breathing was like sex, only better. (I reserved the right to revise this opinion later.) When I was done mentally exclaiming over my impossible rescue, I looked around. The ship, it was odd and old, either so outdated or so heavily modified that I couldn't tell what make it was, and somehow, the crew standing around me fit the same description, a singularly atypical amalgamation of folk. And me, I guess I was one more piece in their puzzle. I was one more scrap to weld onto the rest, one more stranded survivor who was found. I was now one of them. 