29NOV1987IN2D

Things took a turn for the worst. I'd been putting off coming through that damn door for two weeks, and now--here I am--I've gone through. Of course, when I look back, the door is still there, hovering just above the grass. The doorknob, a brassy little ball flush against the wood, is just the right size to fit into my hand, but when I reach for it, my palm is flat on the door, covering an image of the doorknob only, with nothing to turn. I realized then that the door itself had become flush with the grass--grass that doesn't tickle my toes, but layers like scales without texture. there's no leaning against the trees, which are just as flush with the grass as the door.
I can hear a stream nearby; I'll check it out after I've taken a nap; I'm exhausted.
I slept a little longer than I planned, and, I confess, I dawdled a great deal before going to explore the stream. I can't get over being able to touch clouds and sky. The closeness of everything--everything smooth and flush agianst everything else. It's a little smothering, really.
I went toward the sound of the stream; I was surprised how long it took me to get here. The stream rushes along without any depth. The water is cold, and yet, my hand doesn't go beneath it. I doesn't become flush with the surface of the water either, like it did with the door. My hand just--flickers. Feather- and bubble-shaped flickers of silver and blues--water colors. Little bits of my hand vanish and reappear and mix with the water until it becomes only a hand-shape, more part of the water than of me. I'm a little ashamed to admit that I panicked when I realized that my hand wasn't my hand anymore. The sensation of cold was as real as the stream-sound--like a poorly-dubbbed movie, where the sounds and lips are right, but the sound is coming from somewhere else.
It's taken me most of the day, (though it hasn't even begun to get dark yet, which I find very strange), to calm down my nerves about the near-loss of my hand to the depthless stream, and continue my exploration. I decided, for the sake of not getting lost, o follow the stream itself, keeping a safe distance. My hand seems to be okay, but who knows what would happen if I fell into teh stream, with littl ebits of me vanishing and reappearing and shimmering and flickering. Still, I don't think I have much of a choice but to press on.
I seem to have reached--a waterfall, I think. The stream widened a great deal as I was walking along beside it, and then it began to roar. The water colors ended in a great smear of white that stretches on into a cloud of mist, neither below nor ahead. The scaly grass, of course, has ended as well, and horrible jagged shapes of blackish grey and mossy green extend on either side of the white-streak waterfall. They fade into the mist as well. If I were to leap, I wonder if I would fall... Would I just be suspended, the way the door through which I came is suspended? neither up nor down? If thte stream could make my hand vanish and reappear in such watery ways, surely this white, roaring mass would shred me to pieces, like Osiris--thousands of little pieces scattered to every corner of this place--with no corners... There's a lazy appeal to it, I suppose.
I decided, after giving it a great deal of thought, that jumping woul dnot be wise, and it might not even kill me. I did decide, however, to turn back and see if there were anything on the other side of the door, (assuming I didn't have to go through it to get to the other side). I turned around, and, to my complete and utter shock, everything was dark. the sky was poked through with more stars than I've ever seen. The horizon--that's what I've decided to call the end of what I can see--didn't glow with distant lights, but vanished completely in blackness.
I was so terrified that I couldn't more for a long time. I turned around to see if there was any light behind me, and suddenly, it was daylight again! Everything was as bright as high noon, which, only frightens and confuses me more.
It took me several turns and many more deep breaths to be able to face the darkness without panicking. Facing the way I had originally come, I realized I was engulfed in total blackness, with nothing visible but stars. Facing the way I was originally headed, I was in daylight again. I tried to walk back the way I had come--in the darkness, using the sound of the water as my guide. Twice, I slipped and fell in, and was nearly carried away by the current. When I crawled back out of the river for the last time and sat on the grass, I must have sat there for hourse--or even days. There was no way to tell, of course.
I've begun to notice that little bits of me are missing. I'm not in any pain, but I'm missing parts of me. Funny-shaped holes and faded places, undoubtedly from falling into the stream. I keep thinking about the waterfall. At least it's light that way. I could turn and face the darkness, and jump...