| The
Story So Far:
You're in another cave, all by yourself. It's a big cave, apparently, because you can't feel the walls even though you walk and walk. It's pitch black as well, and you can't even see your fingers when you hold your hand up to your face. "Well," you say, "is that because my glove is still on?" No, you have your glove off. "Am I wearing mittens?" You didn't bring mittens. "Well, did I hurt my hands fighting the dragon, and now they're bandaged?" No, there's nothing on your hands at all. Your hands are bare and exposed to the world. If there was a light source around, you'd see your hand and your fingers just fine. "Okay, so it's really dark, and that's why I can't see my fingers when I hold my hand in front of my face." Yeee - eppp. "So I'm in this big cave. It's really super dark. There's no one around. Wow, that's a total downer." You wander and grope in silence, and lose track of time. At times the walls seem to be closing in on you. Other times, they seem to be as far away as the exit turnstiles of the universe. The silence rings in your ears. The loneliness is starting to gnaw at the corners of your soul. You call out: "Anyone there?" The immensely huge cave echoes back: "Nope." "I almost wish Sir Irving the Explainer were here," you say. "Sure, he'd review stuff to the point of tedium, like how I'm a knight on a quest to find a magic stone to save my kingdom, and how I had to battle blueberries, trolls, barkeeps, and dragons to get here -- but hey, I'd be willing to go over the whole backstory if it would relieve the loneliness and sensory deprivation." The cave echoes back: "If you say so." "Sir Irving might also tell me something about what lies ahead. For example, is it smooth sailing between here and the stone, or is there yet one more challenge?" The cave replies: "Could be." "And what would be the nature of the challenge? Oooh! I wish I could calculate the answer to that question! Or is it best to not know the outcome?" "One way of looking at it." "You're really helpful." "Trying to be." "I was being sarcastic. You're not helpful at all. I could get completely turned around, or even lose my head in this final round, and you're not helping at all." "Just an echo, you know." "Yes, yes. I realize that." "Doing pretty good for an echo, you know." "That's true." "True-true-true . . . . " "Very funny." "Most echoes don't bother talking to people lost in their caves." "I know." "Most echoes just repeat what you say." "I know." "Some just repeat the last word." "I know." "Some just grunt the last syllable." "I know." "So you're doing good here." "I do truly appreciate your efforts at making conversation. Indeed, I'm very thankful that I have a magic echo to keep me company in here, else I fear I would go quite raving mad, after wandering through this pitch-black cave for perhaps countless days in loneliness and hunger and thirst and despair." "Yep. Quite raving mad. Probably what would happen." "So I am indeed most thankful for your company, Magic Echo." "Welcome, but not a magic echo." "Then how is it you can talk?" "Not talking." "Then what am I hearing?" "Don't know. Voice inside your head, probably. After all, you went mad days ago." You pause for a long moment, and shiver in the darkness. "Gotcha!" the echo says. You laugh. "That you did! So tell me, is there a way out of here?" "Sure, the door's only ten feet away. But first you gotta step off that treadmill . . . . " |