The Tunnel

It was so dark in this tunnel, but still he pressed onwards.

He could not sit and rest, as the walls and floors were covered in something corrosive. He could feel the impression of the ground beneath his feet as the soles of his shoes slowly wore through. It was soft, so he imagined green moss as he walked through the darkness. In the light, he thought, this tunnel would be filled with moss and flowers. It would explain the humidity.

He could see light ahead, jagged beams shooting through barbs. Stalactites and stalagmites, he reasoned. He could break enough to get out, then he would need to find his way back to the car. He had parked a fair hike from the cave, but he was sure fresh air would give him enough strength.

The ground was even softer now, shifting beneath his feet. He could feel a breeze blowing in, cool and refreshing. Then he felt another breeze from behind him, warm and rank.

Finally he was at the entrance. He pushed forward, trying to to slip on the wet and shifting ground.

At last at the barrier he realised, with mounting horror, that his way was blocked by teeth. He had yet to fully realise what this meant when the giant tongue moved beneath his feet.

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