Key

I stood at the gate, looking in. The grass there was green. Shafts of light fell between fluffy clouds. The air itself seemed to shimmer. I let out a sigh, and shuffled my feet—or tried to, for my feet were stuck fast in the muddy slime where I stood. I grunted with irritation and made an effort to lift my foot. The mud at last released my boot with a great wet slurp. I gave it a shake and returned my gaze through the gate. I could see a herd of deer grazing on a distant hilltop. A pair of ducks floated over the silver strand of a winding river. This country seemed to me like a garden. Or like what a garden ought to be. Not of course like my sorry excuse for a garden. That was little more than a withered, sloppy patch of potato plants, most of which had rotted before they were ripe. But a fella's got to eat.

My thoughts trailed on like this a while, until presently I became aware of a figure standing next to me. "I see you've found my garden," said he, flatly.

"Oh, so sorry sir, was only taking a look. Lovely place you have here." Embarrassed, I turned away. I had no business being here, a lowly mud runner; I'd only come to daydream. I wouldn't have this stranger take me for a thief. I may be a humble man, but I've got my integrity!

"Reach into your pocket."

"Sir?"

"Reach into your pocket." I turned my head sideways at the stranger, who stood facing away from me towards the garden. Skeptical, I gave my pocket a quick pat, knowing I hadn't anything to put in there if I wanted to. I stiffened at once, for I felt something. "What in the h..." I muttered after a pause, shoving my hand into the pocket to fetch the item. I lifted out a curious metal object, smaller than my hand, polished like a mirror. A key? I stared at it, examining it closely. My hands had never once touched something so... clean. I felt ashamed almost to handle it, afraid that somehow I might contaminate it. I turned back toward the man to protest: "Sir I don't—"

There was no man. Bewildered, I returned my gaze to the key, growing more curious and terrified by the moment. Where did this come from? It seemed almost to burn my fingers as I turned it in the light. Looking very close I could see my own filthy reflection in its flawless surface. And... what was this? I turned my ear towards it. A slight hum, a faint eerie ring. Unearthly, I thought. It made me want to laugh and cry and keel over and jump for joy all at once. I was holding the thing so tenderly that it slipped from my hand. I gasped as it fell, watching it tumble towards the mud. As it fell, it settled about an inch over the ground, hovering! I reached down and snatched it out of the air, scraping the mud as I grasped (for I am not a man of gentle hands). Despite the mud and much to my further amazement, I found that the thing could not become dirty. Indeed the mud itself seemed repelled. "Curious trinket," said I at last, unsure what to do next.

Then my gaze returned to the gate, and through it to the garden beyond. I paused. Looking at the gate again, I noticed for the first time a tiny keyhole by the latch.

"No. No no no." I muttered, shaking my head vigorously. "I do not belong in there, I am a mud runner." I stared at the key a while longer, listening keenly to its song. I looked again at the gate, past it to the green pastures, then back at the key. "Well...." The key hummed patiently in my hand. "I might as well check that it fits."