Returning to the point at which Dave arrived at a cottage and a pair of glittering eyes were peering at him through the letterbox.
Dave spent some time in that cottage. The glittering eyes fired a tranquilliser dart through the letterbox, paralysing Dave then dragging him inside where he lay on a threadbare settee for who knows how long.
Visions came and went. Feverish dreams of times gone by, times yet to come, past errors of judgment made, future betrayals small and large. Val's face quickly faded from memory. This felt like a relief, but he struggled with guilt. After all, she was his wife, for better and for worse...what kind of man would he be, if he didn't honour his marriage vows? Not to mention, remember what his wife actually looked like. And yet...didn't he have a higher duty - to himself? To fulfil his God-given destiny - which, if he was honest, he might well prefer to involve only nice cups of tea, perhaps some carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, a new pair of bins, and lots of otters and not to include Val's domineering and stultifying presence. Dave thrashed around on the settee, sweating in the stuffy, hot cottage as the glittering eyes piled yet more coal on the fire.
'Fossil fuels! Val would have a fit...but then, who cares...what Val..thinks....aaarggh. I'm not coping. What kind of man am I, if I can't cope? Oh really who cares.'
He was given food and drink and generally looked after by the glittering eyes as his mental agonies continued. Why, he never knew, but he sensed this had happened before, to other lost travellers on the moor.
When he eventually 'came to', he found a bowl of peppermint-scented cool fresh water and a clean(-ish) cloth on a small table next to the settee. He dabbed his face and took a couple of deep breaths. The door behind him was open wide and he could feel the bracing air of the moor. It was time to leave.
He stood up and caught his reflection in the oak mirror above the fireplace - which was now cold, and filled with daffodils - 'WHAT THE...?'
'I'm sure I usually only have two eyes. Now I seem to have three!' he patted his forehead carefully, and felt nothing. But a third eye was clearly visible, between and just above his usual two, when he looked at his reflection. Could there be a warp in the glass? he thought of course not - surely not one that looked exactly like a human eye.
'Well, perhaps I'm seeing things. With a spare eye that wouldn't be surprising lol. If it's really there and I'm not hallucinating again who knows, it might come in useful. I'll set off and see what happens. Expect the worst and hope for the best. That's what dad always used to say, and look where that got him. COPD and crippled with arthritis at 65 after a lifetime of working in heavy industry and 55 years of Capstan full strength. He was lucky to make it that far I suppose. At least he never had to worry about having an extra eye lol.'
Dave inhaled deeply as he stood in the cottage doorway and looked at the thin path that wound over the moor towards the sea, where he knew for sure there would be otters. He was ready to move on...
Next time - Dave wonders if his entire life has been a hallucination as his third eye comes into its own - but he doesn't have time to think about that as he finds that there is a considerable demand for its services, back at the Rocky Outcrop.
