Down the Rabbit Hole
I know I put that blasted still around here someplace. Shouldn’t sample so much of the stuff before I draw up my map this time. It sorta makes the trek out here bearable, though. Middle of no place and all that.
My flask gives me extra fortification for the quiet. The stillness. It’s a backdrop for thousands of shifty things I never can quite make out. But, they’re out there. Just beyond the line of trees and scrub. Over the lip of the next hill. Or the next.
I thrash through a thicket. Climb over some rocks. Next thing I know, I’m falling. Through a hole in the earth. A tipsy speed demon in the dark.
I grab at flimsy roots and chaw on hands full of dirt. With a quick look at the fleeting pinhole of light, I vow not to drink so much next time, if only the Almighty will give me a next time. Jagged rocks scrape the skin off my knuckles and tear at my work clothes.
The earth is eating me alive. I wonder if all the alcohol I consumed will give it heartburn, make it burp.
That’s what I think right before I land hard on my rear end. Water trickles from the end of my nose, and when I look up, I see I’ve only fallen about twenty feet. All that drunken melodrama, for twenty measly feet into a well or some such.
Only, when I look around me, I’m in more of a cavern or some such. The rock floor is slick with sweat, and the faint light from above twinkles on the walls and ceiling, constellations underground. Cool air blows in my face from one direction or another.
Some old man once told me this land was like a buried sponge. Crannies and crevices, cracks and canyons that twist and bore on forever.
I always thought he sampled too much of his own fire water, but as I crumpled my hat and set it alight with a dose of my own moonshine, I knew better. Behind the shadows that danced on the walls and licked the white button roof, I saw it again: that knowing look behind the whites of his eyes. He saw this place, right before he went to hell.
Or wherever he ended up.
A fiction series to explore a place. Who knows where I will go, but it will NOT be Wonderland.
Trackbacks & Pingbacks
- I’m Gonna Dig Myself a Hole | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- Money Changes Everything | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- Buried Alive in the Blues | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- If You’ve Got the Money, I’ve Got the Time | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- A Man With a Satisfied Mind | The Accidental Cootchie Mama
- How Deep is the Rabbit Hole? | achievinghappinessdotnet
I do think not. Glad I got in on the ground floor… of the cavern, so to speak.
Haha. Thank you for the postcard. I laughed out loud, and so did MTM. Very clever photo.
Wonderful atmospheric opening, Andra. Hanging on every word!
The trick is to have him DO something from the first word. In these exercises, I almost never manage to do that. I can get there after several revisions, as I cut words and rework, but a first draft almost never makes it.
Journey to the Centre of the Earth! Or at least to the center of Andra’s brain. Just like Swiss cheese…
My brain is mostly holes, I’m afraid.
I’ve always thought of you as having a rather holy personality.
I’m intrigued…
At least, I know why this one is here. I just don’t know where it is going.
“The earth is eating me alive. I wonder if all the alcohol I consumed will give it heartburn, make it burp.” For the love of words, woman. You are good
I threw the burp in there just for you, Tori.
Headed off into the dark again? Whatever; we will surely follow.
I don’t know how dark this one will end up being. Just because he’s in a cave doesn’t mean it has to be dark.
Thanks for links you sent me via FB.
I was just thinking of how atmospheric your writing is, Andra, and noticed Kate already mentioned it, so, ditto on my part. It is 40° here; damp, dank, dreary. A good spot to be in, however, when reading your entry today.
It is always an interesting exercise to try to make the setting a character without it just devolving into loads of description. I hope you’re seeing some sun by now, Penny.
Finally did, this afternoon. Ice storm on late Saturday/early Sunday, rain all day Sunday, and then, today, it hit 50 degrees.
You write the best hooks…
Sometimes. I try.
Your descriptions = priceless.
I really do like the burp one.
“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”
“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”
“I don’t much care where –”
“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
I wonder if Lewis Carroll fell down a hole, and that was the inspiration for Alice? I’ve never studied that little gem.
Great opening! Says loads in a short space!
Thanks, Susan.
Ooh, great opening. I’m pretty sure wherever this goes, it’ll be somewhere interesting.
I hope so, Annabelle, because even I do not know at this point.
Following you down the rabbit hole is a vicarious adventure, Andra. The idea of the earth swallowing someone up, so to speak, is one of my fears. So I’ll be eager to see how you interpret the “what’s next?” I loved, “A tipsy speed demon in the dark.” Nice!
This actually happened to my Mamaw, though that will be another story for another day.
What a great tale and you tell it so well. You use the words with precision.
Tim
Thanks, Tim.