The Tunnel

You could barely see it through the grass. Gunmetal sucks in the light and, if I hadn’t tripped over it, I probably would never have seen it myself.

As it was, I found myself sitting in dirt, bruised and rubbing a dented toe, and wondering why there was a hatch in a forest. It was mostly covered in leaves, twigs and dirt. The only signs of disturbance were the scuff-marks of my own feet. A single exposure of metal where my poor toe had first met immovability. Nothing else suggested it hadn’t simply grown there, as much part of the forest as the trees, birds and worms. Obviously, I tried opening it. I mean, wouldn’t you?

Perhaps you’re the timid kind. Perhaps you would have taken one look at black maw leading into darkness and pulled back shivering, closed everything up and hurried home. I checked for a ladder. It was grey, like the hatch, and rusted enough to make me hold tightly to the top as I gently eased my full weight onto its rungs.

I was climbing for maybe five minutes. When the last vestiges of light faded above me, I was worried, but gradually I became used to it. In time, it became comforting. A blanket, keeping out the cold and the fear. Then my feet hit solid ground and I realised I had a decision to make.

At first, the decision seemed easy. I could not see, hence, I would have to return. As I stood, though, contemplating wonders I would never see, I found my eyes adapting. The darkness was not complete. The walls glowed with a faint, mossy light. Enough to see by. Enough to explore.

Perhaps I had little sense of self preservation. Perhaps I had little left to preserve. Whichever, I took my hands from the safety of the ladder and forged onward. My footsteps echoed damply along the passageway. Little else made a sound. I began to realize how loud even silence at the surface was compared to this underground realm devoid of light and life. The lack of noise enveloped me. Safe within my cocoon, I pressed onwards.

With each step, I worried less about what was behind me. What interested me was what lay ahead.

Soon, I lost all sense of direction. The tunnel had been straight, no side paths, no twists, no turns. Still, I found it hard to remember how I’d got here. It was unlikely I would be able to find my way back.

I smiled and carried on. The end was in sight now.

As I walked, the sound of my passage echoed with the sound of my arrival. Footsteps merged with footsteps and I felt my soul soaring out into the darkness in front of me. I knew where I was going now. I was going forward. Nothing else mattered except that which lay ahead. Nothing else mattered except moving on. The past was gone. Nothing remained except the future.

I wondered what it might bring.