12

I moan and close my eyes. Open them again. Close, open, close, open. Like a mantra.

   Follow me, follow me, follow me.

   That again, over and over. 

   “Fine!” I say hoarsely. “I’ll follow you. Just, who are you? I’ll let you lead me by the hand if you give me water.”

   There’s something pressing at me from all sides. I stand up, and use up the last of my strength to shout, “Who are you?”

   This space is getting tighter. Am I growing or is it shrinking? Abruptly, my head is touching the ceiling. What used to be a large, spacious cavern now seems to be the size of…

   …the size of a coffin.

   Go back to the pool, where the answer lies. The pool is an angel in heavy disguise. If you take the leap before it’s too late, then no longer in this gloom will you have to wait. But heed my warning because if you don’t, or simply, stubbornly, obstinately won’t, you’ll never escape this city of gloom, but be trapped for eternity in the dank, dark gloom.