A while back we got a little tear in reality out in the back yard. I noticed it when I was walking Rufus one morning. Back beyond the fire pit, right before the creek, there was just a little spot of nothing about a foot off the ground, maybe six inches wide, and it extended up to about shoulder height. My best guess, judging by the ragged edges of the tear, was that someone was cutting through the back yard and reality got caught on their sleeve somehow and, when they kept going, it went with them.
“Hey, Bart,” I said when we got back to the house. “Did you see that tear in reality out in the back yard?”
“Really?” He got up from the couch and came to look out the kitchen window. “No. I don’t see it.”
“Go out back and look.”
He went out, looked, and came back in.
“Yep, that’s a tear. Weird that it looks fine from the other side.”
“Did you stick your hand in it?”
“Of course,” he said, rolling his eyes at me. “I’m not chicken, unlike you.”
“What did it feel like?”
“A little cold, but in this weather? That feels nice. Nothing strange.”
“What should we do?”
“Fuck if I know.”
So, for a while, we just left it. I’d go out for my morning walk and kind of peek into the hole without getting too close and everything seemed okay. Nothing appeared to be being sucked into it or spewed out of it, which seems to me to be the biggest risks of having a tear in reality in your back yard.
But then, of course, the dumbass cats started clawing at it. Is there a thing in the history of the universe with a rough texture like, say, the frayed edges of a tear in reality that a cat won’t fuck with? So, the tear was getting progressively bigger.
“You’ve got to block that up,” I said to Bart. “The cats are going to get in there and who knows if they’ll be able to get out.”
“Yeah, I’ll get to it,” he said. And he did stack some boxes in front of the tear, which worked for a while, but cardboard vs. the rain and the cats? The barricade wasn’t super-effective after a while.
I took some duct tape to it and that worked, but I swear, sometimes when I walked by, I could see the duct tape blockade moving slowly in and out, as if it were the diaphragm of some large, invisible thing, sleeping out there in the yard.