Last week I fell down a well. It was Saturday and I was hurrying down the Strand to meet a friend for lunch. The street was packed with people. I was making my way through the ranks of shoulders and swinging bags when, all of a sudden, there was no more pavement. So surprised I was, I forgot to yell.

I recall the fall was quite lengthy. At the bottom, I recovered myself and checked out my limbs. Incredibly, you’ll find this hard to believe I’m sure, I was unhurt. No breaks, no fractures, no problem. I pulled out my mobile phone. I called people but no one answered.

I yelled, desperate for a time. I imagined my shouts working their way up the tunnel and being swept up in the endless clop and swish of the perambulating, uncaring crowds above. Eventually, I sat down, waited and began to think.

And now it’s been a week. Surprisingly, quite a lot has happened. A girl has joined me. She landed on my leg, which really fucking hurt. Her name is Kia. Initially, she was like me in the beginning. A little hysterical, a little hurt that the world seemed to carry on fine without her, a little angry. Kia had been on her way to become an actress. She said the part was made for her. She began to cry. I offered her some lichen. It seemed to calm her down.

I forgot to mention the lichen before. This mossy lichen grows all over the well. It’s edible, very deep all around and absorbs a lot of water from the air, so sustenance isn’t a problem down here. The taste varies, but generally think rocket lettuce. Additionally there’s a side-toilet well attached just off the main chamber. So we’re quite comfortable.

Last Friday, Kia finally agreed it was good we were to share out lives like this. We lay down together, there’s enough room to do a moss angel each, and pretended we could see the stars. After a while, we could.

No one but us. We think together a lot. We miss a lot together too. I miss family dinners, reading and tennis. She misses acting, horror movies and cigarettes. But we’re in great shape. Fashionably slim, a little pale maybe, but with a lot to talk about.

It’s no longer dark down here. The walls reverberate with lights and sounds. We see things together. Some of it is beautiful. Some of it is a trick.

It’s been a few months now, I think. Kia knows she is pregnant. We’ve learned amazing things you wouldn’t understand. Messages come straight down the well all the time. Life is divided up for us between the Day and the Night. We worship them together, as a family. There are others here now, but they have their own worlds, their own wells. We all speak different languages and sometimes they fight.

There is something Kia and I share. It isn’t right, I see this now, but I won’t destroy it. It binds us together and keeps us apart. I made a promise…


I was told, yesterday I think, that we escaped a long time ago. But I don’t tell Kia. I want her to be happy.