“See?”
“What am I looking at?”
“The deep dark pit.”
“I can see a hole in the ground. Did you dig it?”
“No, it just appeared. It’s been getting deeper ever since.”
“So?”
“So, it’s a bit, disconcerting. You just look down into the unending darkness, and it seems to want to suck you in. I sit here like this, every day, my legs dangling over the edge, and all I want to so is just … lean over and fall in.”
“Why?”
“Dunno. Because.”
“That’s not really an answer.”
“Well, you do it. Just look down and try and see the bottom.”
“It’s there.”
“Where?”
“In the darkness.”
“No, that’s just darkness. That’s not the bottom. I can’t see the bottom.”
“I’m sure you can. I can. It’s there look.”
“It’s not there.”
“Careful.”
“Sorry, just got a bit dizzy.”
“You nearly fell in. You could have hit your head on that rock.”
“What rock?”
“That one. There. At the bottom look. By the old dinosaur toy.”
“You’ve got better eyesight than me.”
“Look, come on. Let’s go and have a nice walk and admire the trees or something. Anything. Just stop staring down that hole.”
“No thanks. I think I’ll just sit here for a bit longer, thanks anyway.”
“Okay. But I’m not leaving you. I’ll sit with you.”
“Thanks.”
