Hole

by James Phillips

a glass of cheap supermarket wine

There's a hole in the fence

I have no idea where it leads

I've resisted for years

Sometimes there are bones by the hole

Other times there are piles of pinecones

Strangely, the bones are less worrying

I once read about the worship of Mithras

I have never seen a pool of blood

Possibly it's only a matter of time

One day I may go through

Or maybe something will come from the other side

Either way I know my life will change

For better or worse?

Who knows?

All I know is, there is a hole in the fence.

 

About the author

James Phillips is a storyteller from North Wales. He drives a mobility scooter and has a podcast called Between Mountains & Sea.