Smouldering pit beneath the hotel lobby

Wandering back down the road in the other direction, sort of south and east if one assumes that I had previously been facing north, I chanced upon an improbably grand and opulent palace-like building that had an air of exclusivity.

While I was pleased to see evidence of a more advanced civilisation, I couldn’t help but notice that this was the only building of note and that it did not look exactly like a hotel.

Nevertheless, I went inside nonchalantly, hoping everyone would assume I was staying there, but suspecting all the while that I would somehow meet my end without making it to bed.  I expected to get stopped by an official, but the building was full of people who seemed also to be in the midst of some sort of investigation and there was a hive of activity that rendered my presence there a non-event. It did not escape my attention that everyone else also seemed to be in state of utter disorientation.

Yes, I decided, after a cursory inspection, it was weird in there and things were getting weirder generally. There was no proper roof on the building – it all seemed to have half fallen down – and, despite the lavish facade, my second overriding impression was also of irretrievable decline; it was as if the entire civilization had gone way past its peak and was about to slip away. Nothing about it seemed stable.

The days here were definitely numbered, I mused. My casual air of interest in the surroundings was, with hindsight, a blatant portent of impending disaster. (I have a tendency to go into denial when faced with foreknowledge of unavoidable catastrophe that I was powerless to prevent, probably so as to avoid blind panic).

Determined to put on a brave face and stiff upper lip, I discreetly asked around for a bit more information and was directed to an area at the rear of the building. I had steeled myself to be un-shockable by this point, via the sole virtue of utter oblivion, so when I saw the gaping chasm filled with smouldering boulders nestling innocently in the back lobby I expressed polite interest and studied it closely.

Actually, it was pretty interesting and soon I was avidly discussing the nature of the geological specimen with a couple of grey-haired chappies who seemed to have come over here with precisely such a viewing in mind.

It all looked pretty dodgy, nevertheless, and when one of the chaps grew tired of waiting for a specific sign of activity from the smoking pit it was an exceedingly unpleasant surprise when he suddenly leapt onto one of the flattest rocks and sat on it very  heavily with an expectant air. 

Why the hell did he do that? Wasn’t he burning his bum? I was outraged by his foolishness for I knew it would be the end of us, and watched critically as the entire pit began to shudder and groan, opening in cracks and spurts before our eyes with an unusual lack of noise or disruption to everything around us.

Maybe I blacked out, because it only seemed to be a matter of seconds before I found myself somewhere completely different. The entire continent seemed to have just shifted and disappeared under water to the bottom of the sea, a very long way down.

Shit. This wasn’t good.

I looked around bemused, wondering how people were breathing. Just as soon, I wondered how I personally was breathing.  I opened my mouth, inhaled, exhaled, inhaled exhaled – how the hell….how come I was breathing water, did I have special powers?

Oh. I wasn’t breathing.