Ores of Entropy GUI L LOTINE
Nested between valleys and fields, a cave’s maw denies light to be its visitor. Caves know only depths: a continuous weaving of pathways similar to Yggdrasil in reverse. The surface remains oblivious to the gravel empire it shelters. A figure appears four yards north of the cavern—the Miner has come on time once more. With a pickaxe on his left hand and a torch on his right, he greets the cave’s gloom like an old friend. He ventures in and the grotto welcomes him with the smell of moist rock and granite. Running his fingers along coarse walls, he feels the jaggedness of the stone—rough, erratic curves like the outline of dry ribs on his fingertips. He hastens his pace, recalling the task at hand. After a few turns, he raises his torch towards an odd path in the mine. Something was wrong. The path forward is narrower than his last trek, the air too thin—he hasn’t seen this area at all. Perhaps it was a path he had just discovered, he thought. But he’d never noticed this so close to the entrance. He gapes half confused but half intrigued at the void before him. The mine he thought he knew felt ominous for the first time in a long time. Despite this, as the wind brushes his ears—near whispering—the unknown felt inviting, as if trying to gain his trust. He grips his pickaxe and continued. More time slips by as he treads uncharted earth and in his next turn, he senses something—a silent, near unnoticeable rumbling. The possibility of a quake terrified him, even though the rumbling didn’t seem to exist. The ground felt static; the walls unmoving. A puddle of water to the left of his feet remains undisturbed. The Miner dismisses it and bores himself deeper.
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FICTION
