Down the Rabbit Hole

.-.-.Wonderland.-.-.

Kindest greetings on this most fantastic of occasions, darling readers. So broad have been my wanderings of late that I nearly lost track of updating my public. Thrice and ten days ago, I set forth on my winter constitutional, attempting to debunk a few of the more far-fetched cryptozoological theories. My travels found me seven days in a tundra far drier than any desert, and as inhospitable as that gaseous orb about which we rotate. With my strikingly handsome sherpa and a pack full of equipment, I set out in search of the elusive yeh-teh creature which plagues the stories of humankind the world o'er. The wind at our backs, we made good time the first day.

Whilst scouting habitable locations for the evening's repose, I could not shake the feeling that I was being watched. Even after settling in the tent with my companion for sleep, the discomforting unease in my stomache's pit did not wane. Sleep came fitfully that night, but it did come. I awakened to find my knowledgeable companion missing from his bedroll. Panic set in, for the rule of exploration is to never traverse unknown terrain alone. Chancing a look outside the tent flaps, I saw nothing but the featureless landscape before me. The temperature had dropped somewhat, so I quickly retreated within the relative safe warmth of the tent and blankets. Moments passed agonizingly, and eventually I began to hear noises. I strained desperately and willed my weak ears to action, but it all sounded distant. Briefly, as I gathered all the gear I could carry and wear, I wondered if my sherpa had been yelling for help. I circled the campsite and looked behind every crag and cranny within eyesight of our fire's remains, but saw not a single footprint nor sign of activity aside my own.

Some yards east of camp lay the bloodied corpse of a ram, still hot. The noise which reached my ears previously must have been the unfortunate sounds of its violent demise. Panic set in, and I had to keep moving or risk an encounter with whatever beast felled the ram. I trudged onward, weary from my fitful slumber, and wary without my companion's knowledge. The compass device urged me eastward, toward the next-nearest human establishment. The sherpa had carried our means of defense, and he had absconded with it in his, I assumed for sanity, cruel gesture of anti-tourist behavior. Yes, I told my addled brain, he left me with all the provisions aside from the weapons hoping I'd get lost and perish before I reached another village. I allowed not a single alternative notion to creep in, as my panic and fear had already taken over most every other aspect of my consciousness. Rationalization was my sanity in those next few agonizing hours.

Lost in thought, I almost didn't see the body in time to avoid falling directly on top of it. The body of a small child, buried mostly by dirt and brambles, lay frozen in my path. Surrounding it at each of the four compass points was a large stone. As you can surmise, my fear and panic gave way to hopeless curiosity, and I backed from the body to examine the burial site at a distance. Certainly, my instincts told me to flee quickly, lest someone discover my trespass, but I suppressed them handily. Suddenly and without provocation or warning, a thickly caloused, tan hand clamped over my mouth. My sherpa had returned, it seemed, and with a harsh whisper told me to follow him away from the ritual site.

What followed our retreat remains inconsistent in my memory, but I'll recount to the best of my ability. My prodigal sherpa explained to me that he had gone tracking, as he had heard noises similar to the ones I had heard. Time got away from him as he was searching for the source of the sound. He found something he wanted to show me. Having heard such claims before on excursions, I was perfectly prepared to witness something that neatly (and disappointingly) explained the whole mess. Instead the sherpa led me to a large outcropping a mile away. Peering over the ledge, my breath caught in my throat. The air shimmered around us, if such can be believed, and my eyes found themselves soon staring into a wide swath of treed landscape. I felt a tingle in my nose, and realized it was warm air hitting the frigid extremity. I pressed my face further in, and discovered that yes, warm air was circulating around.

At that point, my senses became dull as an old woman's, and in recounting this to you, dear readers, I cannot do justice to the lush oasis which met me on the other side of the outcropping. Exchanging a look, the sherpa and I silently made our way down into the lush basin. Strange sounds and smells greeted us, and I felt as though time itself had shifted around me. I was in another world completely, and my scientific curiosity drove me to continue on....

The results of my findings are too numerous to recount in such a medium as this, and I will shortly publish a full volume of my works. Should you require further information, you may contact me with questions and I will be most pleased to respond.

Note: To celebrate Lewis Carroll's birthday, I've followed Mr. Doctorow's instructions, and changed the blog style for today. I hope you've enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole.