S for Story

By Chase Whale

For this fable, you will need to turn and lay on your left side to experience this story. If you don't, I will have to ask you to leave.

So turn on your left side now. Thanks.

In position? Water bottle next to you? Comfortable? If you're on your iPad, the screen will go berzerk until you lock it in landscape mode. I'll wait.

Ok, good. Let's begin.

There was a man. This man was lying on his left side, reading a story as you are now. He was curled like an S with covers surrounding his neck like an albatross, reading a story. The rain punched the windows, trying to get in.

The story was about a man reading about himself lying on his left, reading a story. Today. Today is that day the story takes place.

The man kept reading this story, which is what you're reading now. He became aware the story was about him. You, dearly devoted reader, are picturing him and wondering what he's reading.

"Hello."

"Hello.”

An echo. Like feedback on a telephone. He asks a question:

"Who are you?"

The man is confused; he's reading about his current life at the same time you are. He knows you're there, yet not -- you can't answer him, only know what he's doing.

He wonders if whatever he does, you do, too. So he tears a page out of the book. He tears the page out furiously, and his house suddenly splits apart, and the sky opens up. Half of his home is now a big black hole. Throw a flashlight down there, and you will see nothing. A bottomless pit of doom. Where does it go? the man thought.

Your page-tearing took off his right arm. He didn't notice until drops of blood began to bounce on his right cheek. He didn't feel the pain; he was too entranced at the black hole to notice.

The man starts to chew on his left arm like an agape ass with teeth as sharp as Jaws from that one James Bond movie -- he wonders if you're controlling him. He wonders if him tearing a page out was his doing or yours and if you're missing an arm and half a house, or if you got a chewed up arm, burning with pain as much as his.

This man sits up, looks around, and walks to the black hole for a peek.

You pause. What's going to happen now? you think. He looks at the sky and shouts, "Hey! Let's get things moving. Let's finish this story. My arm hurts."

He's curious about what would happen if he jumps into the black hole, and you already know it. But he feels gallant, so he jumps into the black hole.

And this is the part where you fall through the opening in the sky and land on his couch, on your left side, curved like an S -- as the man was. You wonder where he went. Where your right arm used to be is now a healded stub down to the elbow. The book you are now reading is filled with blank pages. You begin to imagine someone laying in the same position as you, watching you read your book.

Your story starts here.