The mirror of worlds...

When in the general course of navigating the roller coaster of life one encounters the sudden sickening drop for which not only the ride but the entire amusement park is notorious throughout the world and then find that on the way down one has fallen out of the seat and plummeted to a messy landing in the quicksands, or more accurately "quickmuds", of the Slough of Despond I have found a welcome escape from reality's intractable horrors and miseries in the fictitious worlds of literature. Today, like many of my recent days, has been spent sinking ever deeper into the anaerobic mud of physical and mental crisis and I have therefore bailed out of this world and sought refuge amongst my friends who inhabit the space between bookends. Sometimes I'll stroll with Candide, Pangloss and their mono-buttocked lady friend in search of the best of all possible worlds, or listen to the infinitely digressive ramblings of Tristram Shandy, or talk dogs with Thurber, or enter the surreal world of Flann O'Brien but today I locked the world outside the front door, kicked last weeks unopened post into the hallway, unplugged the phone and disappeared into Terry Pratchett's Discworld, a world and mirror of worlds where I cannot be reached and where every difficulty can be addressed by the wise words of my favourite orange, hairy librarian....Ook....you can't argue with wisdom like that.