The Hole

“Dare,” I said.

“I dare you to stick your hand in the hole.”

I rose to the challenge. Shining my torch on the cave wall, the familiar hole we’d spun many a terrifying tale about stared back at me open-mawed. Hungry.

Every possibility played in my head: masses of spiders consuming my arm, roiling snakes and poisonous fangs, giant black and yellow centipedes with stinging pincers, starved rats chewing my fingers.

My hand entered, and my blood ran instantly cold. Sweat poured down my back, tears streamed down my face, an inaudible scream lodged in my throat.

We shook hands.