Thursday, August 18, 2005

The Crystal Skulls

The water, falling in droplets from the numerous stalagtites, beats a constant tattoo like some natural, ritual, torture. The L shaped cave isn’t large but the acoustics seem to hint at depths unseen. At spaces that, maybe, don’t exist solely in this dimension. And what dimension is this, exactly? How did you come to be here? You don’t recall an entrance or a tunnel of any type.

A cursory inspection leads to the inescapable conclusion that this must be a dream or some out of body experience. No way to get in, no way to get out. It seems real enough, the caustic ammonia tang, of Bat guano, a pungent explanation of the crunchy yet slime treacherous footing. The water, of course, the perceptible chill of ancient rock, provides all the sensory evidence of existence you need.

The thought occurs that something must be lighting the way. Reaching the corner you turn into the adjacent leg of the L to find a roughly hewn, stone table. The table holds 3 perfectly fashioned crystal skulls of various, ethnic design.

Amazingly, the skull on the left speaks,

LEFT SKULL: God, I need a shag

RIGHT SKULL: Don’t be stupid, flatface, you can’t shag. You don’t have the necessary equipment.”

The skull in the centre, larger and somehow more refined than the others, answers in a patronising tone.

CENTRE SKULL: Speak for yourself, I can "shag" anyone I choose. I’m a multi-dimensional entity

RIGHT SKULL: That’s just it, you stuck up sod! It has to be a communion of minds. A meeting of souls

LEFT SKULL: Bollocks to that, I want a tight piece of ass

RIGHT SKULL: You’ll just have to make do with the cerebral won’t you?

LEFT SKULL: I can’t.

RIGHT SKULL: What’s wrong now?

LEFT SKULL: I’ve forgotten how to do it

To be continued…