The Friendly Abyss

Sharon’s Note: Not all that that is scary is bad. Warning: 😉

“So, how is he doing?” The nurse asked. Her eyes were wide, and she put a hand to her chest.

“He’s . . . “ The doctor’s voice trailed, and he looked back towards the door he’d just come through. His voice took on an airy, puzzled tone. “He’s absolutely fine.”

“Oh the poor. . . wait, what?” The nurse was pulled short in her well practiced spiel of pity.

“He’s fine.” The doctor repeated, still puzzled, but his voice more sure. “When he was picked up, the team reported that he was shaken, but basically alright. When we got him into holding, he was responsive, articulate, and he even asked if he could have some coffee.”

“Maybe,” The nurse ventured, “Maybe we were wrong, maybe he didn’t see. . .”

“Oh, he saw.” The doctor waved his hand back and forth. “I asked him. He looked into the Abyss.”

“But why wasn’t he afraid? Why wasn’t he broken like all the rest?” The nurse hugged herself. “Did it not look back this time?”

The doctor shook his head. “Oh, he said that it looked back, alright. He’s also pretty sure it winked.”

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