Ermilia’s Picture it & Write.


As Sam got to the fork in the road, he turned off his iPod, trying to remember if he had to take the right turn or the left. The signpost looked like it had been caught in a hurricane whilst being mauled by a bear. There was no way to read anything off the termite-infested wood at this point. Aunt Gloria had said something about wild flowers or a vineyard on the road to Back Turn Village, but he was playing Grand Theft Auto V at the time; with divided attention, he scribbled the directions on a napkin which was nowhere to be found.

It was a fifty-fifty chance he had to take. When in doubt, take the right turn, he thought to himself; after all, right is right. He breathed heavily as he laboured on his bicycle along the untarred road. Suddenly, he came across a sign with the inscription ‘NRUT KCAB’. The words were spray-painted and looked like an act of vandalism. Someone was trying to be funny. He continued for a about half a mile before he got to another sign that said ‘NRUT KCAB WON’. It was no different from the first. Another prank by kids, he thought.

It wasn’t long before he came to a cliff. He got off his bicycle, walked over to the edge and knelt down to see if the village was in sight. To his surprise, the road continued vertically downward for about five metres and then leveled up again at the bottom. He took out his camera to take a photograph of what he deemed a rather intriguing sight.

In a flash, he felt a force of some kind pulling him over the edge. He tried to stand up, but couldn’t. He tried crawling backwards on hands and knees, but that didn’t help either. It felt as if he was tethered to a post while someone gradually pulling on the rope. In one cataclysmic moment, he found himself falling to his death, but as he got closer to the bottom, it felt as if he was floating like a feather. Landing softly on the ground, he puffed in relief and lay there for a while, thanking God for what seemed like a miracle.


He looked up and saw an elderly man and woman standing comically upside down on the road, peering at him.

“I didn’t know the circus was in town,” Sam said, smiling at the overweight couple.

“Ew era ton sucric elpoep,” the man replied, smiling back. “Ew era raluger elpoep.”

“Come again? I don’t understand the language you are speaking. Do you speak English?”

Sam picked himself up from the ground and found himself looking at the couple face to face.

“Emoclew ot Yspot-Yvrut Egalliv,” the woman said grinning at Sam. “A ecalp fo on nruter. Uoy lliw reven og kcab emoh.”

“Tahw?” Sam exclaimed. Then he caught himself. That didn’t sound right. He meant to say ‘what’.

“Tahw?” he found himself saying again.

He started to panic when it suddenly occurred to him that he was also standing topsy-turvy.

Out of the brushes came more people, all walking awkwardly on both hands, each person beaming at Sam and saying “Olleh” and “Emoclew”.