A girl called Stick found a door. It was an out of bounds door and she walked through it.
I saw it happen and me and bag were the only witnesses. Stick wore green and greens are always on their own. I don't think I've ever heard one of them speak and if they do they probably use their words on themselves. My heart sounded as loud as a church bell inside my rib cage. I wouldn't have been surprised if Bag had heard it too. We stood facing the big open door. Me with my bell and Bag like a mouse.
'So are we going to follow her or what?'
'We have to,' I replied. I glanced up at the stammies, half expecting to see their scowls. But it was just a blank screen. Nobody was looking down at us.
'It doesn't feel right,' she said. I knew how she felt because I felt the same way. It has been drummed into us from our birthing that it is strictly forbidden to go anywhere near them. Just like it's forbidden to use more words than we are permitted. There are lots of things that are forbidden. It's all we know.
I was waiting for the girl called Stick to return. To be tossed back through the doorway like a sack of potatoes. But we waited and nothing happened. We were in a dead end colourdor. It wasn't the first dead end that we had encountered but it was the only one that had a door at the end.
'Come on,' I said, talking as much to myself as anybody else. 'Come on.'
She held my hand like Mentha does on Wombday. It felt like I was holding hands with a small animal and not a girl at all. But maybe I felt like an animal too. Maybe we all did on this strange and upside down day. I closed my eyes as we walked through. I must admit that part of me was hoping that we would walk back into our normal world. A world where we only have so many words to use at once. A world where we feel like humans and not rabbits and porkines.
I think I heard Bag squeak and I think I squeaked too. Just a little bit.
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