Luckily I landed on some soft snow and some talking penguins sheltered and fed me. Until I realised I was hallucinating, and they left on a magic carpet.
And so I found myself wandering. Lost, half-mad and half-dead, all hope gone. Then I saw the igloo.
Something uncanny about it, I remember thinking. Maybe it was the supernatural glow that seemed to emanate deep from within it. Maybe it was the sense of destiny that I felt as I stumbled towards it. Maybe it was the large wooden sign saying ‘Igloo of the Uncanny’ nailed above the door…
It was warm inside. The old man said nothing as he handed me a hot drink. I gulped it down greedily and fell into a deep sleep. Such strange dreams… of falling down a long flight of stairs… standing on a black beach looking at a red sea… and when I awoke the old man had gone. But when my eyes fell upon his dirty old shaving mirror, I saw his face staring back at me.
Maybe I’ve always been him.
Maybe I’ve always been here.
Dear Mr. Keeper, your Uncanny Origin sent shivers down my spine. To be lost and alone in such a harsh, unforgiving environment, with only your hellish memories for company. To be isolated from the modern world: no X Factor, no Credit Crunch, no speed cameras...
ReplyDeleteMemo to self: ring Thomas Cook and find date of next available iccebreaker. South Pole here we come!