HOLE IN THE WALL

by Lauren Triola

A rabbit stood in a field. There wasn't anything particularly remarkable about the rabbit, or the field for that matter. The rabbit was an unremarkable gray with an unremarkable white puff of cotton for a tail, unremarkably twitching its nose as it stood on its hind legs to look over the tall grass. The field itself was typical in that it looked exactly like a field, with a large open area free of trees and covered in long green grass, which swayed slightly in the cool spring breeze. Since rabbits often stand in fields, and fields often have rabbits stand in them, there was really nothing particularly remarkable about the scene at all. Except for the fact that Roger was fairly certain he had not fallen asleep next to a field with a rabbit in it the night before, but rather in the bedroom of his New York apartment, far from any fields or the rabbits that stand in them.

Now that he thought about it, Roger didn't think he'd ever seen a field before, other than those in movies or commercials for drugs that cure embarrassing personal problems. It was actually a bit disappointing. He felt no sudden urge to run through it or do any sort of frolicking. Though he might have felt more inclined to frolic if he had been wearing pants. Instead, he had only the boxers he'd worn to bed the night before. If he had known he would inexplicably be transported to a field overnight, he might have considered wearing a few more layers.

It took half an hour to find a road, and then another hour for a car to stop. For some reason, people seemed reluctant to pick up a man in his underpants.

"Where am I?" Roger asked the elderly truck driver as he climbed into the passenger seat.

"'Round Geneseo."

Roger had to think for a moment. He didn't get out of the city much. Or his apartment in general. "That's in western New York, right?"

The driver spit a wad of tobacco out the window in acknowledgement.

When he entered his shoebox apartment, the door sticking, Roger noticed the astronomy poster over his bed had fallen. He'd bought it yesterday in an attempt at finding a hobby. He needed something to do outside work, and staring at stars didn't sound too strenuous. As for work… well, call centers weren't exactly mentally stimulating.

Roger pinned the poster back up, got dressed, and called his boss, Enrico, using the old "I slept through my alarm" excuse.

The next morning he woke up in Greenland. Luckily, he had worn pants this time. It took him a week to get home, hitching a ride to the airport with some climatologists. They were nice enough to lend him a coat before his nipples suffered necrosis and let him use a camera when he saw a reindeer.

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