Stuck in the hole

The intention was good; the line of thought, weak. He neither saw the consequences, nor would he realise how much they would hurt him until he had stepped into his own hole.

How big was the hole, now that he was there? He let his fingers sweep against the dark walls, looking for a handhold or perhaps a way down. Should he be looking for something to climb up on or a way to dig himself out? Was the answer up or down?

Above him a dark sky loomed, full of stars that didn't shine. He knew that his only wish was to climb up there, and spend his entire life lighting those stars again. Nothing else mattered in his head, or in his heart.

Suddenly, he glimpsed something through the dark. Was it a handhold, or a hole leading downwards? The thought of finding out frightened him to the bone.