138- The Cave

You, finding life, rather dull, dreaming again of exotic places, wishing you were somewhere else? We offer you escape. In the spirit of the Christmas season and its magic effect and all men, escape brings you a charming fantasy about a small boy who discovered a delightful new world and lived forever after in its enchantment.

As Antony Ellis tells it in The Cave. It's on days like this that I remember how it used to be before I found the cave. This day in particular, of course it's hard to see everything as it really was.

Time has a habit of distorting the memories. Memories. Christmas. Christmas Day. What a long time ago that was. I was ten, and an unpopular uncle had distinguished himself by giving me a flashlight. It was enormous.

Four batteries and the most incredible gleam to its metal case, I couldn't wait to try it out. And because it was still early afternoon, I could think of only one place that was dark enough for the exciting test.

The cave, the big cave whose mouth was near the sand dunes and whose recess was rumored to be miles deep. George Fennel and I had never ventured more than 200 yards or so inside, but on that Christmas afternoon I knew that the cold darkness of the cave would have no fears for George and me. We met near the Dunes as arranged to compare notes on our respective

Christmas presents. It was quite warm, and the snow was beginning to melt in patches. A You go's were a feeling about nearby. It was as I have remembered it all my life. Listen, I bet it'd work like a searchlight tonight.