Welcome to the Middle


 (starting a new collection of short stories. Hope you enjoy!)


I remember the first time. Don't we all? Don't we all want to remember the first time we fell through the grey gauze, stumbled actually, and landed in another world? Another world that had stood in silence next to ours for so long, yet we on this side never knew of it? I think we were cheated. We were told to be born, grow up, learn everything that didn't matter to us, grow old, and die so that others would have a shot at being miserable. 

I woke up. And saw. And fell. When I finally stopped rolling, I looked around and wanted to cry. A sky the colour of a ripe lemon. Massive trees that swayed in jasmine-scented breezes. A multicoloured teapot lay next to me. I got up to a seated position, then took the teapot in my hands and studied it. So, I said to myself and watched the words trip out of my mouth and fly away, this is what the other side looks like. 

Yes, it does, said a voice from all around me. 

I quickly stood up and set the teapot by my feet. 

You have nothing to fear from me, the voice added with a laugh. Just then, a woman with long purple hair and wearing a white dress, appeared before me. Welcome, she said, to the Middle. 

The middle of what, I had to ask but then again, did I really want to know?

The Middle, she said with a smile, of everything. You found a split seam and stumbled through. She waved her arms about, causing the trees to sway with the winds once more. Welcome to the Middle.

I looked around as a smile appeared on my face. I had heard stories, I said, from travelers who carried the dust of olde on their backs. From the women who wove blankets out of spiders' webs. From the tea drinkers who drank from chipped indigo cups. 

Their stories, their sights, were carried on the winds, she said to me, and they find the right ones who will listen. She held out her hand and I took it. . . . .


Welcome to the Middle. More to come. 



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