Eldergrose Flamingo's

I was thinking one day when I got stuck inside myself. I was rolling along on the thoughts of thoughts since gone and what that actually meant – although to be honest it wasn't really going anywhere – when I realised I'd come across a door I'd never seen before.

That was when my senses reversed on themselves and I felt everything I had never felt before and expired those feelings you feel when you feel everything else in existence as we currently know it. It was not pleasant. It was numb. Callous and overwhelming – not sickening, but very much noticeably different.

Imagine if you can how it feels to come across a door you shouldn't. The one you avoid because it's a bit wrong… it has bars, or a rusty padlock; or your parents are making love behind it. Or it is just there – and you don't understand why. Do you open it? You emotions are already zinging out of your skin. All you can think is “twist the handle / walk away / twist the handle / walk away / twist the...” And it is only a door; there is nothing to fear from a door, but oh! This door has a sweet grimy voice and it sings to you. How fast your heart races when you come across this door. How itchy your fingers are, how hungry your senses are to tug this door open.

The knobbly latch hang out in front of me like a panting tongue. With my newfound fiery feelings I urged my spirit forwards and manipulated one of my hands to heave the door open. It wrapped around and around and around the cold handle till I had a firm yet ghostly hold.

I heaved the sheet apart from its rigid latch and stepped back as the door continued to open by itself.

I prepared myself for the ultimate shock as I allowed myself to be blazed by the awesome power of boiling, and brightly burning... There was nothing hiding behind this door but the continuation of my path. I would like to say I was shocked. But I wasn't even disappointed.

Once in my new corridor of nothingness, my own energy glowing my path ahead of me, I let my hands trail against the walls. They were lungs. They breathed and they whispered to me.

“ You're getting closer. ”

I continued onwards desperate to discover what an unwelcome door could possibly hold. Slowly the lungs became more and more clustered till they were filled to the brim with oddities and television lights, flickering in the blackness as the commercials made the most of their 30 seconds. They tried to block my path, tell me this was the end of my crusade, this is what the door protected.

Protected?

No, trash is not something to protect. I pushed onwards, clawing through dirt and religiously keeping my eyes away from the flickering screens. I ploughed into the mass of my own mind and through my own dumb determination I toppled forward. The wind around me told me I was falling through a cavity in the rotting mess. Hope desperately tried to grab at me and haul me up again but there was no lucky catch. I fell, twirling now and then. I decided this chute was for abseilers; its craggyness and mystery, the ever moving walls that poked out to snag me in my decent. As I lowered further still I pictured a behemoth bell, in the classical style, ringing out recklessly above the opening, singing my down song, taking me through this world of corridors. Then, without care or caution I was running – running along the walls of this unusual creature and as I understood that this meant the floor beneath me was moving me forward I realised too that I could stop myself… and I was standing. Not how I usually stand for I had just fallen, but the posture I was in felt like a human standing none-the-less.

Given my predicament I was summing everything up in one easy word – INSANE!!!!! But new and incomprehensible feelings told me this mind wasn't ready to give in to madness just yet. It was decided then. And so I continued to walk. I considered what surface I walked on. It was crisp but furry as it skimmed the edges of my shoes. The abseilers and the rock climbers would not like this surface, however it seemed to suit me perfectly.

This corridor absorbed my shoed footsteps and I could feel the slimy walls brush against my gangly superhuman arms. It was hypnotic trudging through something so vast and so intimate. Womb-y I think is how it could be described; this corridor behind a door. Like a womb…but not a womb. Womb-y.

The moss was brushing my knees now. The slick lining of the ceiling lapped my head indiscriminately. A cat was grooming me for my grand entrance.

Eventually I was walking through a tubular bubble. I felt the walls collapse onto me and expand again as it stinged in retreat from my poisonous skin.

SQUAWWK! What a sound!

The shadow of the creature shoots above me. Two, three, six, ten – more and more. They encircle me. Their smokey black scales drawn to my presence. The walls have been ripped and expand in haste.

This is it. This is what I have been hiding. What I have now found. Glints of light from my own being reflect in their tiny eyes.

They have been waiting for me… their exasperation from waiting is clear.

They are my size as they line up around me, yet I am small in their presence. Too many to count, they merge into one mass and together we look at each other.

Their flamingo beaks rise… surrounded… I am prepared for it but I do not want it.

If one, the blackest, the boldest should strike, then all strike.

I wait… now it is my patience that is tested. I wait…