The Plunge

He squeezed himself through a hole in the fabric of his universe and said farewell to his dirty old flat and found himself in a field by a river. In the field was a tree with a road leading to it. Or was that just an illusion created by the shadow? It was hard to tell. The river was grey, and the sky was grey, and Biggtab felt cold. He wondered if this is where he actually wanted to be. No, there was no going back now. The hole had closed now until he had served some time in this world.

Apart from the river and the tree there was nothing in view except a few cowpats in the field. The horizon stretched for miles all around. There was nothing except the tree. 'OK, it’s going to have to be the tree.' thought Biggtab. He had aching limbs but he knew he must go on and see what this dimension had to offer.

Biggtab wandered up to the tree. It was an average tree. Not being an expert on trees - Biggtab could not identify the type of tree etc. or decide what to do with a tree? Climb it - yes. He grabbed a lower branch and tried to lift himself into the tree but only succeeded in slipping on the damp cold bark. His hands were cold. 'A tree I can't climb in a grey dull world! Great! Has my imagination nothing to offer?' thought Biggtab.

In the distance there was laughter, and then a bird left the tree and flew away. It was a crow. Biggtab knew that this was all an illusion he had created for himself in order to try and find some kind of muse, in order to get over this dreadful writers-block he was experiencing, but he couldn't leave, he must find something. Some gold to take home with him and make his life worthwhile. He had to find a story or a point to it all - a point to his life. It was all so wrong. Who would want to follow him into a grey world like this? Who would want to stay? But this was all he could find - a field with a tree and a river. Biggtab walked to the river.

The river was a slow flowing river and the banks were steep and slippery. Biggtab thought 'What the hell!' and jumped in. Shit! It was cold. He needed to get the water out of his eyes. Swim! 'Christ, there's weeds and my foot is caught!' he thought. He struggled free and swam to the shore and climbed out, shivering.

Biggtab was back in his flat again. It had not worked. This was harder than he had thought. He was empty-handed and it was getting dark outside. Biggtab got up from his chair and crossed the room, then fell on his bed and cried.

Paul Sloman