THE HOUSE IN THE UNDERGROUND

The road. A series of crossings, bridges, level crossings, traffic signals. He starts over accelerating, what worries me, because he still has little practice. I ask him to drive slowly but he does not obey, excites more and more, over accelerates again ... and the vehicle bends as we enter a squared dead end in which center there is a small fountain.

The car seems suddenly out of controle. The car overturns and rolls over!

At once many people around us. Among these, some offer us a stay in their house.

We are led to a house with some unusual staircases high as a castle in the underground.

In one of the rooms the owners started serving us a dinner.

After dinner, while my friend went for a walk inside the house, accompanied by the hosts, I was attracted by a strange light coming from inside a room at the end of a corridor ...

where there were some shelves with bulky tomes completely bound, covered with dust and spiderwebs, stacked behind a rust-eaten wiren mesh.

The books were written in a dead language judging by their titles, many of them on exotic sciences and other about literature.

...

Inside the room there was a rocking chair covered by a patchwork of rags where I ended up sitting,

getting a look at the bottom of the darkened room where it was hanging a giant spiderweb ...

Where did the light that had attracted me, was coming from?

I was rocking myself on the rocking chair at the rythme of this and other questions, when my eyes, led by a longer swing of the chair, got fixed on the ceiling of the compartment where a kind of whitish veil hung like a giant web and emitting a very white light that has become stronger as it focused my gaze.

I raised my hands in front of my eyes and saw them becoming with stunted palms, blue veins pointing out in strong relief, looking cadaverous.

Front of me, a mirror, began to reflect my own aging image, the hair long and white ...

What a strange light would that be?

To whom did it belong or had belonged, the chair where I sat?

What house was that, and how did we get there?

We surely fell at some con. What was done of my mate?

?????????????????????? ?????????????????????? ?????????????????????? ??????????????????????

I left hastily that hole, I walked to tumbles through the house, stumbling on behind closed doors ...

and, of course passed out ...

........................................... ............................................... ............................................... ...........................................

They were in a kitchen where some plucked birds, geese and ducks may, were upon a table ....

They were arguing about keys ...

When I approached them, my friend said out loud that there was only one place where the keys could be hidden.

What keys could they be talking about?! ??????????????????????

I remembered the car keys, the keys of the doors I found closed ...

And like that was solution to all my questions, I proceeded through the midst of the people towards the kitchen sink

grabbing the birds in whose dissected bowel I slipped several times hands

within which I ended up taking huge bunches of keys whose utility I could never guess what it was.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ?????????????????????

They were all very happy and grateful, both to me and my mate.

...

Everybody thanked us a lot and we were left at the door of our room ...

...

***

The next day we were brought

back by the stairs that we descended the previous day, to exit the building.

The door would open only at

certain hour of the morning and, when opened, we would need to get out immediately because, after our withdrawal, the building would collapse, burying beneath it everyone around!

We finnaly left the building. It was raining.

We took shelter in a porch

looking at the small empty square and our car lying completely shattered and broken with broken glass strewn on the floor.

They were like drops of rain that had forever solidified.

forever solidified ...

THE END