It’s midday. Sun shining brightly outside. Blustery wind blowing hither and tither – hopefully bringing welcome rain. A respite from the dryness enveloping everything.
In my study, surrounded by my papery companions, my music, my bags and bags of yarn, filled with completed or half-completed projects, I sit in front of my desk, thinking. I’ve been ready to pack it all in for a while now. Just get up one morning, get dressed and drive off into the mist. To be lost in time, forgotten by everybody that knows me. As gone as gone can be. Or, better yet, to not wake up at all. Just be lost in death.
I look down. Maybe praying to a God that I think has forgotten me. Maybe just to check if my hands are as clenched as I feel they are. Likely just because my head feels too heavy for my neck. I see a shimmering in the foot well of the desk. Just a glimmer, kind of like the sun baking on black top. Through the shimmer I can faintly see something. Nothing very clear, just an idea of something behind the glimmering.
What is this? Probably an electric short, getting ready to blow my house and its contents sky-high, giving me the oblivion I’ve been craving.
I slowly stretch out my hand, not certain what it is. Don’t feel like getting shocked – pain is never a pleasant thing! I encounter slight resistance…
And my hand passes right through. It does not appear at the back as I would have thought, no. It goes in. Into the shimmering glimmer. I don’t feel anything . Bring my hand back in. It looks just the same. Feels just the same.
I move my chair back, get down on my knees – with great discomfort because my back has been letting me know that I’m getting older. Reminding me that there are not all that many years still left. Making me aware of the mistakes made in my youth, mistakes I’m paying for now. Once on my knees, I put my hand through the glimmer again. Push it in a bit further, to my shoulder. My face getting closer and closer until my nose touches the glimmer and my face sink through it.
I see… Well, I see someplace else. Nowhere I’ve ever been. Nothing like I’ve ever seen. And certainly not something that has any place being in the foot well of my desk, in my study, surrounded by the bonds of suburban living.
Here’s my chance. My way out of my current, binding, claustrophobic existence. The escape I’ve been praying for, longing for, hoping for.
I crawl through the glimmer, my whole body sliding through to the other side.
I stand up and breathe deeply of air untainted by exhaust fumes and people. All around me, just waving grass, like a golden carpet. In the distance a copse of trees – I make for them – might as well explore my surroundings while I’m there. I look backward and see the glimmer in the air and through it, dimly, I can make out my study – chair askew, bookshelves behind – just as I left it.
The glimmer follows me, always at my back so i can go back should I want to.
I don’t though. Before me lies a dream come to life. A place of rest. A place where money or lack thereof makes no difference. Where shelter from the elements are more important than what said shelter looks like. Where you eat what you pick off the trees. No larder or shopping trips. No people to revile you or make you feel less than you are.
A portal to an alternate reality. A place I can go and hide when reality starts to bite harder than usual.
I might never leave…