The Pipe

“Helloooo!”

“Helloooooo!”

He shouted loudly into the pipe, sticking a metre out of the ground. Where it led to, why it was there; nobody knows. At least, he didn’t know, but he was sure nobody did.

“Yoohooo!”

It was a white pipe, rusted in places and hence he presumed it was made of iron or poor quality steel. Around the base of the pipe which was buried into the earth, the green of weeds had made their homes, next to the bare patches of grass erratically lying about the earth in the area.

“Yoohooo!”

The pipe shouted back at him. He remembers the days, back when he escaped into the reality of his home to wherever his imagination would take him out in the fields. He was young then, just a little boy; a little boy with the power of his mind that was slowly robbed from him as he grew older. Where it went, he never knew; but it was more of apathy and ignorance: everything else in life had conditioned him for society, and he had learnt to be a good member; conforming and obedient. His mind stopped speaking to him as he learnt to control it.

“AaaaRRHH!”

It was a terrifying gurgling noise, mixed of pitch from low to high. He was alone, and he knew it. And that was why he was talking to a pipe.

He remembers; he remembers those days, so many years ago; decades ago. In his flight from school and homework and words and texts, he’d spend his afternoons here, just as alone then as he is now. The only difference is how much further he bends down to speak to the pipe.

“AaaARRhhhAARrhhh”

He listened silently, slightly amused at himself. It was a rusty old pipe that led to nowhere; but he always believed it led somewhere else. Somewhere far away, with people and creatures magical, forlorn, with lands sculpted out of the clouds in his mind; where the guy at the other end of the pipe always spoke perfect English. He’s never seen it, but he had heard so much about it. He only saw it in his dreams, and he remembers how badly he wanted to be in that world. He missed it.

“I missed you!”

He felt foolish now. What is this grown man doing here? He ought to slap himself and get back to his car, and be rid of his fantasies now that he is a man.

“I missed you too.”

His mind spoke to him again.