Ooookay people… today whilst I was sitting under the shady apron of a large oak tree right beside a babbling brook reading a book, I became aware of the presence of a white rabbit. It ran around in circles for a few moments before looking up at me and telling me that he was late. Given that I don’t often come across animals that can talk never mind those that can tell the bloody time, my curiosity got the better of me and I decided I should follow it.
After performing a number of contortions aimed at extricating my ageing limbs from my place of repose, I was convinced that if the rabbit had witnessed any part of this process it had probably hopped away to safety already. However, he was obviously made of sterner stuff and was actually beckoning me forwards and pointing towards his watch in a manner that suggested that I get a move on so, I broke out into a high-speed shuffle in order to oblige.
Then disaster struck…as speed is not an adjective usually associated with my perambulations unless they are mechanically assisted in some way I tripped and fell forwards. Propelled by the unfamiliar forward momentum of a high-speed shuffle, I plunged headfirst towards the ground. Today, however, the forces of favour and good fortune were smiling down on me because instead of hitting the ground with enough force to cause a crater the size of one that might feature on an episode of ‘Aircraft investigations’ I found myself tumbling into a large aperture in the ground. Weirdly, at this point, I began to gently float into what seemed to be a large tunnel but a very extraordinary one at that.
It was lined with shelves on which, there were hundreds and hundreds of books, and as the rate of my descent slowed I was actually able to read the titles on their spines. Who knew that titles such as ‘Tweet like the wind’ written by a bloke with the name of Trump had ever been written or, ‘let’s get this done’ by BBBBoris JJJohnson even existed. I did spot one book that might have been worth a read The Funny Thing About Being a Widow by Sandra E Manning but apparently this one was sold out.
After what seemed an age I executed a nice soft landing on my bottom, probably the only time I have seen my rear end as an asset and not a thing that sometimes gets hurt on doorsteps.
I surveyed my surroundings and noted that the tunnel was lined with several doors all of which were locked. Then I saw a glass table with a key on it. Feeling like a contestant on ‘Take your pick’ I was only able to unlock the smallest of all the doors through which I would be too big to pass. I looked back to the table on which there was also a drink labelled ‘Drink me’ it looked a lot like vodka so of course, I did only, this time instead of falling over, after it as I usually did, I found my self shrinking to a size small enough to allow my entry through the tiny door. I reasoned that the drink could not have been vodka after all because, given my past consumption of it, I would have already been the size of a pencil.
I pushed the door open and was momentarily blinded by a flash of light and a gust of wind that was strong enough to relocate my pale blue headband to the area around my chin. Gradually my eyes began to adjust to the light and I could make out a sign overhead which read ‘BUY ONE GET ONE FREE!.‘
Dodging supermarket trollies when you are the size of a borrower is no mean feat but, thanks to my headband, I was, at least, unlikely to be fined £100 for not wearing a face covering. I made my way to the bakery section to find some cake labelled ‘Eat me’ which took longer than it should for someone who could normally locate such an item with all the veracity of a heat-seeking missile.
The only sweet treat labelled ‘Eat me’ turned out to be a pack of hot cross buns handed to me by a bakery assistant with a smile as wide as a Cheshire cat. I took a small bite of the bun and waited to be restored to well…half my normal size would have been quite nice but nothing happened. Deciding that my usual tonnage was better than remaining in Asda for the rest of my life especially, now that I couldn’t reach the vodka in the spirit aisle, I finished off the rest of the pack of hot cross buns.
With depressing predictability, the result of eating more than I should soon made me as big as ever again and I returned to the babbling brook to finish my book the ending of which went something like this.
If you are bored by the contents of a book change it or write one that excites you or, you might find that the resultant inertia can play tricks with your mind. If this were to happen just remember that if a duck talks like a duck, walks like a duck then, in all probability it is most likely a duck and not a talking rabbit with a bloody stopwatch. Watch what you eat and drink because you will get bigger or smaller accordingly and lastly when choosing which doors to walk through in life ‘Take your pick’ wisely.