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Clara lay still, taking it all in. She told herself that she was still in her bed back home, that all this was just illusion. Perfect, inescapable illusion, but illusion nonetheless. She couldn’t get hurt here. This was just part of the game. She looked down at herself, seeing that she was clothed in army boots, black combat trousers and a grey vest. Standard action gear. Clara was very thirsty, though not as thirsty as she was frightened. “Don’t be afraid,” she said aloud. Slowly she got to her feet. The only sounds came from her breathing and the florescent in the ceiling. Clara wondered whether in reality she was standing on her bed now. She took three paces forward. It didn’t feel like she was standing on her bed at all. It felt much more like she was in a cell, alone. Was she trapped as well? Clara approached the panel next to the door. Qwerty keyboard. She pressed a button at random. A word appeared on the panel; ‘Password?’ So she was trapped. Maybe the parrot could help her. “Giddy?” called Clara. She realised that she was speaking at just above a whisper. “Giddy?” she called again, this time much louder. He didn’t appear, which didn‘t surprise her at all. It occurred to Clara that perhaps the best thing she could do was to stay right here. That’s not what the game was about though. She had to play. Password, password, password. Zero Strangeness? Reduction is key? Syraton? Solid State? She tried them all but nothing happened. Wait! It was obvious, this had to be it. Clara typed in ‘palm tree’ and pressed enter. A second later the door slid open. What Clara had expected to see was more of the same grotty brown stone; a corridor or another room. Instead she found herself facing a vast expanse of blue sky across which ran a bridge no wider than the doorway in which she was standing. This bridge had no hand-holds, no barriers. It seemed to be constructed out of a series of semi-transparent cubes no more than two feet square. The bridge ran like an arrow into the distance. Looking down seemed like a very stupid thing to do but Clara couldn’t help it. There was no ground visible, just endless sky dotted with the odd white cloud. Up, down, left, right, it all looked the same. There was no sun. Clara supposed that she was to walk across this bridge. Fat chance. She’d be better off back in the cell. She turned to look over her shoulder. The cell had gone, replaced by a stone wall that stood inches behind her. Then the wall disappeared, as did the doorway. Clara was on the bridge. I’m back in the flat, she told herself, this can’t hurt me, it’s just a game, everything will be all right. The cube on which she was standing began to crumble. With a yelp Clara hopped onto the next one, which also began to crumble. “F**k!” she cried, beginning to trot forward as fast as she dared, arms held out like wings. She wasn’t going fast enough, she could feel it, so she began to run, the knowledge that she wasn’t actually here providing no comfort at all. She couldn’t fall down into the sky, she’d be falling forever. Slowly the bridge began to rotate counter-clockwise. As she ran Clara felt herself sloping to the left. She didn’t fall, her centre of gravity adjusted seconds after the bridge turned but this sensation piled on to the mounting terror she was feeling made her scream. She continued to run as the bridge continued to turn and crumble beneath her feet. It wasn’t long before she was effectively running upside-down, though this feeling didn’t last for more than a few seconds. Two of the cubes she was approaching suddenly faded into nothing. Clara would have to jump. A step before she reached the gap she leapt forward, over the abyss and back onto the bridge. She tottered for a second but regained her balance and kept on running. Another gap appeared, which she also jumped. And another. Then Clara saw that not far ahead the bridge changed colour to bright green. Not only that; there appeared to be steps as well, climbing up (or down) into a cloud. The steps were coloured yellow and red alternately. The terror she’d been feeling was under control now and Clara was not as tired as she would have been if she’d been running for this long in the real world. Her mind was still sharp enough to guess that the green cubes would act differently to the semi-transparent ones. She was sure of it. Clara slowed down her pace as she got closer, now able to guess accurately how long she had on each cube before it dissolved. She stepped onto the first green cube. Slippery. Black ice slippery. Now Clara had to proceed slowly. Gradually she slipped and slided along, nearly falling off every third or fourth cube but finally making it to the yellow and red steps. Clara paused, gasping, then she laughed, keeping her eyes on the cubes in front of her. This was so ridiculous! She put her feet on the first yellow cube. Down it went, plunging through the sky with Clara screaming, her hands plastered over her face. Then the cube seemed to bounce like it was tied to a bungee rope and quickly climbed back up until it was in its original position. Before it could play that trick again Clara hopped up onto the first red cube, sure that it was going to explode or something even worse. Nothing happened. Clara waited, teeth gritted. Still nothing. It seemed that the red cubes were neutral. Could she jump over the next yellow up to the next red? No, the steps were too high, she’d fall off. Yellow it would have to be. Clara stepped on it and again the cube hurtled downwards only to bounce and come back up. The next red was the same as the last; neutral. The next yellow was the same as the last as well. On it went, the red cubes a place to recover and regain her nerve, the yellow bringing searing terror that if anything increased each time the cube sped down through the sky. Clara was getting there though; eight steps to go, six, four, two. The final step before the cubes disappeared into the blank white cloud was coloured gold. Clara tottered from the final yellow up to the last red. Her upper body and head were lost in the cloud, she couldn’t see a thing. She felt for the next cube, the gold one, and stepped up on it. The cloud was gone. Clara was standing in her living room wearing her pyjamas. Giddy the parrot was perched on the television. “You shit!” she yelled, leaping forward to throttle the bird but it was too fast, flying out through the door, squawking. Clara collapsed and lay spread-eagled on the carpet in blessed relief. The ground felt so solid, so good.
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