Writing Exercise: The Portal

It’s not every day that you see a portal. Actually, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen a portal in my life. Well, let me amend that; I’ve seen portals, but they were just regular doorways or windows, a portal from one normal space to another. This portal, the one I saw today, was different.

At first, I wasn’t sure that what I was seeing was a portal. It looked like a shimmer of air – like the sort of shimmering that happens above the flames of a bonfire in a hot and humid night. As I drew closer to the wavering patch of air, I realized that if I looked at it out of the corner of my eye, I could see something through it. What I should have seen through it was just the trees, tall and boring palm trees, on the other side of the park. Instead, what I saw through the patch of air was something exceedingly odd.

It looked like a kind of demonic vortex: a sort of whirlwind of dark colors, weaving through each other and around and around the spiral they made, tumbling over one another and creating frightening images if I tried to concentrate on them. Sweat poured down my face in the summer heat as I kept turning my head this way and that, trying to see where the moving tunnel inside that patch of air led to. It was no use, however. The spirals of color just kept on and on inside that portal, and the ending was so far away it just looked like a black dot at the end.

The portal drew me towards it. I took a step, and another. I wanted to enter it, get swept up in that endless darkness and see where it would lead me. Before I knew it, my hand was inches away, reaching towards the shimmering air through which I saw the tunnel.

My logic kicked in. I snapped my hand back. I shoved both hands in my jeans pockets, like unruly children who had gotten away from me and needed to take a time-out. With one last, involuntary yearning, glance at the portal, I turned away. I turned my back on the fate that would await me if I entered that darkness. Now, at day’s end, my curiosity burns for that knowledge and my logic must sooth my imagination. “There, there,” it says in my mind. “It couldn’t have been anything good. There, there. It’s alright.”

Where Is the Cake?!

In case you were wondering, NO, this is NOT a Portal/GlaDos reference.

It is a reference to the stupidest children’s song every to have mortified this planet. It is in Hebrew, which is already bad, because Hebrew is not a particularly pleasant language. The bulk of the song is this: “Where is, where is, where is, where is, where is, where is, where is, where is, where is, where is, where is, where is, where is the cake?” – The number of “where is”s is NOT exaggerated. I counted.

It’s bad enough to have to listen to that horrible monotonous song over and over, but what’s worse is that’s accompanied by the need to listen to horrible pop songs as well. All of these lovely tunes drifting, or rather pounding, through the windows of the house from the birthday party in the park. Of the hits I got to listen to over and over this afternoon: “I Want It That Way”, “It’s In Your Eyes”, “The Ketchup Song” and “The Macarena”. If you haven’t heard of any of these songs, consider yourself extremely fortunate.

I wouldn’t be quite as negetive if I didn’t know that it’s illegal to use huge speakers in our park. I’d like to hang signs up all over the park requesting, eloquently and politely, for people to stop using illegal loudspeakers for their children who are NOT deaf. Perhaps something along the lines of “You and your crotch-droppings suck for abusing my eardrums!” would suffice.

EDIT: Paul McCartney sang an awesome concert and is very much alive. Just so you know.