Last evening I discovered another dimension. I was wearing my second favorite pair of pants and...
Okay, hold up. Before you start thinking that I've got some kind of "Magic Dimension Hopping Pants" - they aren't. Just regular docker-esque tan-ish pants. And the favorite pair of pants can't span the dimensional gap either, okay? Let the pants go, they are only marginally connected to the story anyway.
Anyway, the pants factor in because I was wearing them while I was sitting on the couch. These particular pants have a problem with change, namely, coins tend to fall right out the pockets when I slouch down on my sofa.
Sure enough, just when I was getting comfortable, I feel the coins slide out and tumble to the couch. Acting quickly, I reached to grab them - and then the "effect" started. By reaching for them and applying pressure to pick them up, I initiated a cascade reaction - I actually created the conditions to slide them to the side and into the gap between the cushion and the rest of the couch.
A small degree of panic later and I went after them. I got up quickly and lifted the cushion and again as I reach for them they retreated even deeper into the couch. Not just under the cushion, but off to the side and under the arm of the couch. With more bravery than I usually display, I reached into that darkness.
And found the motherload. I must have pulled out $15.00 in change, 3 rings, a watch, and several fragments of rice chex. I suspect party mix may have been involved.
It took me several trips into that darkness before cleared out the First National Bank of Anthony's Couch, but on the last trip I sensed that even this action was driving more coins deeper into my couch. But where?
How could much more room could there be in my couch? I can only conclude that those last coins had been pushed out of my reach into some kind of pocket dimension - a hidden darkness of infinite capacity.
I was lucky to have gotten anything out of there - but I wonder what else has been lost there. I've heard theories of clothes dryers "eating" socks, but since I frequently fold my clothes on the couch, I believe that it's the couch, not the dryer, that is responsible for these missing items.
Tonight, I'm going back in there. Into the darkness in my couch. Looking for change, socks, and truth - yes, truth. The truth about lower dimensions and the access points to reach them. The cascade effect that draws objects into them, the limitless storage capacity.
Perhaps even the secrets to the universe itself.
So, if you don't hear from me, it may be that I was not strong enough to resist the awesome power of this dimension - or that I was drawn in and then ejected from some other couch. Like some kind of furniture wormhole.
Wish me luck - I'll report back if I can. If not, tell my family I love them and that my sister can have my CD's. Except for the Janet Jackson ones - put those in the couch for me.
