-1Through bracken wood, dirty and black, the branches of the trees surround it stick out entirely straight. Their charred tips like spears, they are an unspeaking threat to curious outsiders searching for whatever foods may blossom from the tall wood. Past the miles of dangerous cedar lies a field made from grass of the deepest and most pale greens, blowing in the winds like beautiful spiralled patterns that come into one another, pushing onwards towards the center of the grassland. It was to this place I came, having broken a trail through the thick woods, its surfaces both course and sharp. Blood trickled down my forehead, stopping to rest half-way along my cheek.

Out over the sprawling lengths of uncut grass, the ground fell into itself, forming a deep valley. The endless trees on the edges of the landscape cast a dark shadow, bringing a cool breeze to everything. But in the darkness of the valley, the air was chilled even further than that. The spirals of light grass faded and all that was left were the deeper shades which looked friendly in their own way. I trailed along through the grass, carrying the broken shoes I choose to wear over my shoulders. The grass brushing against my feet felt wonderful, the dirt beneath me soft and free of painful debris. I came to the crest of the pasture resting just above the valley, and I looked down to site within. Just at the very bottom of the plain laid a sad looking hill, reaching up as if it wished to touch the sun. It couldn't come close. However, unlike the grassy knolls which laid out all around it, spotted flowers on long, twisting stems were strewn about and resting against one another. They blew in the winds shoulder to shoulder, helping one another look up towards the daylight, their petals curved up and towards the sky.

It took careful stepping to reach the bottom of the depression, so much unlike the shallow lowlands of my own home. Here I rested for several hours, the cool air so brisk and biting against my exposed skin. The winds seemed to soothe the dripping cuts which curved around all my limbs. When finally I came to, the sky was still cloudy overhead, trails of sunlight peeking through open holes in the sky. It should’ve been long past first darkness, and yet, here I was. My watch displayed three-thirty AM. How far against the currents of time I must’ve traveled. I realized with what care I would have to walk so as not to leave impressions in the flower beds spread out over the prominence laid in front of me. So as not to destroy the hopes and dreams of all the vibrant blossoms, I took a trip around it. A thick dew coated itself over the grass like bubbled windows, trying to showcase the beauty within rather than have me come about and touch it. I felt bad, knocking it away where it would seep back into the Earth. As I came around the ridge, a pathway of nature’s green blades opened itself up amidst the blooming biennial limbs. It twisted along the towering gradient, as if for me to follow.

I felt at a loss for breath as I climbed the unending slope, moving left and right and occasionally down, attempting to rise up to the top of the hill. From the echoing ledge of the valley, it had seemed much smaller, like a painting protruding from the Earth. Now, as I climbed the undisturbed beast, reaching for its precipice, I realized differently. The flowers pointed in my direction as I moved past them, ignoring the sun in favour of an idol more reasonably within their grasp. They turned and faced me, dotted centers accentuating the petals, dripping with unreasonably deep blues and reds and yellows. All seemed to serve a purpose, co-existing as an idea. My mind could not wrap itself around the greater purpose of the perennial clusters, their image fragmented. It seemed so obvious and so thoroughly planned, but any purpose there was remained a mystery. My thoughts were cut short by a doorknob in the grass, and I was sent tumbling into the flower beds I‘d been so careful to avoid. Not a single stem was broken.

I looked down to examine the ground, peering at the rounded, silver knob with an intense curiosity. I grabbed it in my palm, cold, and turned it to the left. I heard a click, and suddenly the dirt and grass all around it fell away, tumbling down the hillside towards the darkest point of the valley. There was an oak door. Patterns within the wood shot up and down the sides, and deep impressions had been carved through all of it. I opened it up and stepped inside, immediately falling into an immaculate hallway. Pain flooded up into my ankles as I bashed myself against the ground. The floor was a thin red carpet, the colour dark and consistent like a rosebud wine. It stretched on further than I could see, spiralling to the left in order to follow the shape of the corridor. The walls were a creamy beige, lit very deeply by the hidden lights overhead.

As I walked along the hall, it began to curve into the Earth, going deeper and deeper like a ramp. It stretched on for ages, going far beyond where the furthest point of the valley had been, bringing me to a place in the Earth so warm and alone I felt at home for the first time. The lighting became brighter as I moved into the ground, and eventually the corridor shifted and curved the opposite direction. A railing emerged from a point in the wall, and I dragged my hand across it as I brought myself so far into the Earth I had no hopes of turning back. As hours passed by, I forced myself to stop and rest on the ground, crossing my legs and opening the sack I had brought with me from which I would eat and drink.

I continued. At the very end of the hallway, a portion of it laid straight and moved upwards. I hiked through to the end of the interior, coming to an elevator. Its silver doors had an image painted in them of a deep blue circle; a spiral continuing inside of it. The doors opened, twisting apart like a strange aperture, inviting me into the rectangular sanctions just past. There were no buttons inside or out. The inside of the elevator was the same deep blue as had been painted on the outside, with no railings or other details. It was simply an enclosed space with no discernable light source, although it wasn’t dark. The elevator pushed down into the Earth.

When the elevator finally came to rest, I found myself in a large room. It was a baby blue colour, and the floors were a checker pattern of light greens. Its walls were empty save for several small empty bookcases which had nothing to tell. In the furthest corner of the room a pine table sat alone, and I could smell the freshness of its make even from where I stood. I came over to it, looking down at the image carved into its center. On the edge of the picture were all the spiked, straight limbs of the horrid forest. Just beyond that were the grassy meadows, where the layers of turf spiralled about beautifully. I could see the valley in the center, with the hill inside of that. The patterns within the flowers made themselves clear to me, as I saw them spiralling out and towards something just beyond their reach at the center of the hill. At that point where all the flowers grasped, I could see the image of myself, although I’d never reached the summit on my climb.

A hill exists beyond where anyone can see.