For In That Sleep – Bingus
The truth is revealed
Trackless desert marks their way
Death is in the air
“Why do you have your bag out?” asks Bingus
“What bag?” responds Jeroen. …
“The bag you always carry, the one in your hand now.”
“Now you’re just being silly. Here, I’ve brought you back your hat. I found it over there lying on the ground.”
Jeroen approaches Bingus unfolding the bag such that it might easily fit over Bingus’s head and looking strangely like a hat.
“Stay back, this isn’t amusing, not at all.” Q uickly Bingus rises intent on backing away only to find that his legs are not cooperating. Try as he might he cannot step back, worse as he tries to force the issue he accidentally steps forward closer. Jeroen is nonplused or maybe even cheered as Bingus stumbles forward. As he comes within arms’ reach, suddenly desperate Bingus yells but instead of shouts for help, giggles and laughter escapes his mouth; it is as if his very body has turned against him.
Smiling, Jeroen reaches out fitting the bag over Bingus’s scalp and then in a smooth deft maneuver he pulls the bag over the gnome’s face while lifting and spinning him at the same time. Blinded, Bingus can feel his feet kicking idly at in the air, like a small child spun upside-down, then with a final jerk and a bounce the world disappears as Bingus floats in a space like no other.
Muted light, both bright and dim simultaneously in a sky marked by diamond sparks of brilliance, speckled but impossibly distant, and the gnome believes rotating or even dancing in the sky. Reaching outward with his intellect, Bingus realizes that more likely it is he who is moving and then he sees it, a strand of silver line, pooled out an amazing length, too far for measure, tethers to his body, but not like a rope. This line does not tangle or catch and it is not tied nor can it be touched yet still it is attached to Bingus from somewhere well beyond his sight.
“What is this place? Am I alone?” Bingus reaches out to the silver line but he is unable to touch it as it passes like quicksilver through his hand. With no foundation and no point of reference Bingus struggles adrift for an indefinite time.
“Do you know that spider’s travel thus? Adrift, on bubbles spun of web; to where, they do not know. One might land in the ocean and thereby drown while the next sail in the midst of an open flame and be drawn to a fiery death, and the third, bliss, a paradise where the passenger will feast on bugs like you might suckle on milk and honey living off the fat of the land.”
Looking about Bingus sees nothing but the mutes spectacles his mind has yet to define.
“What do you suppose will come of you so far from your home? Have you ever really known what wonders wait behind the closed door? There is a names for it, many names, I know them all illuminations of the mind–Pandora, The Apple, Nyarlathotep, Merlin are just a few. The quest for understanding, without purpose, action without guidance … arrogance, reckless, hubris … I know your type. You might be me in miniature or am I you expanded? Protogenoi … the son of Iapetus and Themis, also known for his wily intelligence suffers to this day in ways beyond even his comprehension and he shares the blame for humanity’s unenviable existence."