Alex in BlunderLand

Young Alex began his day as he always had, making the long trek to the forest to gather enough firewood for momma to make breakfast. The time of day was very early and the time passed since the birth of Christ was 1885 years.

Getting to the tree he had chopped down last week was not a problem, even in the dim morning light. Coming back was a different matter altogether. With his arms laden with wood he began the return trip.

He had long ago taken to counting the steps in hopes of being able to make the journey there and back with his eyes closed.

"It's so dark I might as well," he had told himself months ago, and had been working on it since. What he did not realize was that he had made that pledge before school let out for summer, and that he never wore shoes when he was out of school, and, that his right foot had grown even more over the break than his left had, and that his path would not be true enough to get him home not using his God-given sight.

Alex took 10, maybe 12 steps before tumbling down into an open well. Except, this was not a well.

The opening was as round as a penny and as wide as a buckboard wagon. The entire area was lit up by phosphorous touched by small flickers of light coming from several kerosene lamps burning, set about every 10 feet or so. He could see tunnels running from the opening next to each lamp.

Standing in each tunnel were people. Some held one person, some several. Not one of them had eyes, only widened openings filled with a white pus that ran down their cheeks in rivulets, like molasses in January.

His path down the opening had been straight and true, keeping him from the sides, until the tunnel people began to reach out and tug on his shirt as he passed by. Then, he began to bounce against the opposing sides of the opening, scraping skin and drawing blood.

"There's no bottom, I will fall forever," he told himself. He tried to slow his descent by latching onto those who wanted him, but found no purchase due to the caustic slime that forbade his grip and burned his skin.

Then, he saw the bottom. A dozen or so of the eye-less people waited for him there with arms stretched upward to receive him. Just as he felt their cold and clammy hands he woke up.

Alex had quite a bump on his head where the largest of the sticks of wood had hit him when he tripped over a small rock. There was no blood.

He struggled to his feet and, once he felt stable enough, gathered the wood again and made his way to his waiting mother, eyes wide open