The Garden

Beyond the tunnel, you find yourself standing on some kind of terrace. On either side, the Wall stretches out into hazy infinity. Before and below you sprawls a luscious, green landscape of fields and forests. Gently sloping hills, steamy jungles, wreathed in mist and golden shimmering fields of grain, as if all the most beautiful parts of nature from all over the world, and some from far beyond, were gathered in one perfect Garden.

In the distance, almost hidden in the mists, you see a needle-thin structure rising up into infinity. Again, as with the outside of the Wall, the sheer proportions make it virtually impossible for you to tell how large and how far away anything actually is. The Garden could be the size of a simple park, it could be the size of a country or an entire continent, and yet something tells you that even those orders of magnitude are insufficient to truly map the otherworldly scale of this new realm.

Your reaction, however, is one of horror and consternation. You see no buildings. No malls or supermarkets, not even a fucking 7/11! It´s all just a load of pristine, heart-breakingly beautiful nature, unsullied by Man´s ever-corrupting touch. The fuck are you even supposed to do with that!?

Your only hope of finding something actually worth your time is to get to that structure in the middle. Maybe they´ll have a burger joint or a strip club. Maybe they´ll even have a casino!

A flight of steps leads down into the green splendour below, hewn from the same pearly marble as the Wall. The stone stairs lead you in a zig-zag pattern through layers of cloud, with the unchanging secenery stretching out below. The monotonous descent and the sensory deprivation caused by the mists fill your mind with buzzing, angry boredom. You can´t even let your mind drift off into idiotic sexual **** fantasies. You can barely walk and pick your nose at the same time, so climbing down a semmingly endless flight of cloud-slick stone steps demands all your concentration.

After an indeterminate period of mindless plodding, the mists clear. It´s much warmer under the clouds, and much more humid. Soon (well, comparatively soon), you reach the bottom of the stairs and step onto soft, green grass on the outskirts of a verdant, leafy forest. The air is warm and summery and flowers bloom amongst the tall blades of grass, small islands of red and yellow in the softly undulating sea of green.

In the distance, birdsong can be heard, sweet and faint as chimes on the wind. It is a scene of serenity and peace, such as no modern man has ever had the chance to see. You hate it. The sun is too hot, the grass too scratchy and the forest ahead looks scary and deep. Besides, you´re sure there are insects all over the place, and the mere thought of that terrifies you. Even in life, your only interactions with insects were burning ants with a magnifying glass and bawling for your Mum to come deal with spiders in the bath or bees in your room.

Still, the forest might contain blowjobs, and you could really do with one of those right about now...