I was on a mission, an espionage more likely.
There was my boss, a gruesomely-fiendish man, who always demanded I take the most treacherous routes to my destined destination (I like that word). Yet he was lusciously charming.
Sometimes I question what I find in certain men. Oh... lots of times.


I was climbing a slim, horrifying caracole. It was draped in dusty red velvet, and looked like a forgotten page from a Reader's Digest magazine--a shred of melancholy history. Featuring The Good Ol' Greenwich Apartment from a 50's sitcom, it was most cleverly London in every touch. It was where ketchup would be considered as a fine alternative for tomato sauce. It was where the Ice Cream trolleys would always miss, and where kids would be snarled at for "causing a great deal of noise". It was where you'd find a 2 year old Mars Bar wrapper squished between the sofa cushions.
It was devastatingly depressing, and conveyed a certain sense of murkiness: one that would continuously haunt you throughout the day. (Imagine all your Christmas presents wrapped in William Morris...THAT kind of murkiness.) And given that piece of "evidence", I was convinced that I had to go up those ridiculously lean caracoles. Or a half-caracole, I'd say.

It was so lopsided, flap jacked, twisted, and blurred, it wasn't your typical caracole at all. And I kept tumbling as I went up, my head spinning around like silver discs. Something glittered in my eye before I saw a heap of melted chocolate covering everything in place. I remember I screamed, but got warm, murky chocolate gushing inside my mouth at once. I didn't have much time or sensibility to shut it tight as more chocolate came pouring in. I had to tell my boss; I waded through the vast brown mellowness and caught his shirt collar, just in time to save him from drowning.

"Sir. We have a problem, and I'm not quite sure whether I can proceed."
He looked straight through me. "You can. You will."
"Ah," I thought. "The magic word!"
If I say the magic word, I can go home.
"The magic word, the magic word..." I mumbled.
My boss drowned. And all went completely dark and blue.

"The chocolate got angry at us....." someone whispered in my ear.