Strips of saturated ceiling tiles sag like synthetic stalactites dangling from the roof of the artificial cave. The darkness within manufactured, held prisoner by moldy, mildewed curtains drooping from a bowing ceiling, leaky as a nimbostratus filled sky; a manmade cavern indeed. A skulk of red foxes ahead, my imagination quickly plays about my eyes, all beautiful and sleek, standing about within a semi-circle arrangement, glaring back savagely, their glossy black eyes gleaming under the slight of moon light penetrating in through the mouth of the cave. I am an intruder into their home. With my torch fully illuminated and aimed straight ahead I carefully monitor for the slightest of hostile movements. Guardedly, I move forward traipsing across fallen leaves dried to a crisp scattered about the cave floor, blown in by a winters wind. The foliage crunching under the weight of my footsteps like curling asbestos tiles laid across a water damaged basement, the sound spoiling my best instincts to be quiet. Ahead, an opening in the cavern ceiling above provides a glimpse up toward the outside sky. I gaze up in amazement at the stars, lively they twinkle as if reflections refracting off of a massive chandelier orbiting within the heavens above.
Forward I march. The moonlight emanating in through the opening mouth of the cave now exists as just a polished pinhole a distance away, an Exit Sign ignored, as I spelunk deeper into the unknown. My torch highlights a vertical rock face which presents itself as a natural ladder into an alternative, deeper dimension. Carefully I ascend, feeling the dampness of the earthen rungs soak my bare hands with cool, placid moisture. Hoisting myself above the highest of the rocks toward a teetering ledge, I squeeze and confront my body through a narrow fissure which opens up into a cavernous rock room. Like a mezzanine high above the main stage, I am able to peek out over the distance my travels have covered, as the white light piercing in through the skyward opening adjusts to the luminosity of my eyes. Goosebumps coat my arms as I scan my surroundings. I am not alone. At my side, I am accompanied by a large silhouetted figure, slumped over like a giant hope chest, carelessly stowed decades ago within the darkest recesses of a cluttered attic. I fear to move. A growl. I swear I hear it. Not wanting to startle a potential predator, I whisk my torch to the ground and sure, as best I can my trembling body.
Slowly I back step toward the crevice from which I entered. Backtracking down the rock face ladder, cold as iron, and past the skulk of foxes which now appear more like red arms chairs in the presence of my well adjusted pupils. Loosened tiles beneath my feet slick with mold crack under my toes like fallen Autumn leaves, as I hastily head toward that dilated pinhole of light, being carful not to slip. With a flash of brightness and a dousing of humidity, I am safely outside of the cave, surrounded by a thicket of deserted bungalows and overgrown tennis courts. My imagination snaps back to reality, the growling which sent me running becomes easily identifiable as a piece of sheetmetal roofing rubbing against a metal structural I-beam. Under the girthy bough of an oak tree I catch my breath and wait for my heart to calm. Before my very eyes, the cave morphs back into the decrepit theater for which it truly exists. Again, I enter through a blown open door for the second time now. I bow with my hands cupping my knees before taking a seat upon a red chair which just minutes ago was some terrifying troglodyte. Funny how the mind can conjure up such false realities.
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