I don't have long to get this down.

Whatever it is that's happening to me, is happening quickly.

And if I put the telling of this story off any longer,

I don't think I'll be able to tell it at all.

Not that it matters much.

What took place in the cave isn't the kind of thing people are going to believe, not even

close. They'll think I'm making it up for attention,

or they'll just think I'm sick in the head. It doesn't matter. I have to try.

If something does happen to me, or worse, if something happens to the people around me, maybe others

will listen then.

Maybe the story will be a warning, but if I'm honest, the time for warnings may have already passed.

It happened at my honeymoon, New Zealand. If I had more time I'd tell you all about New Zealand.

I'd tell you about the wide open landscapes and the turquoise lakes that sparkle at the

foot of the craggy mountains, but I can't go into all that now.

I can't afford to get sidetracked.

This isn't that kind of story.

What happened to me happened deep in the fjordland.

A jungly glazier chiseled strip of coast that looked like something from the Jurassic

period.

It happened in the glow worm caves near Tear now. The glow worm caves are a must visit.

That's what everybody says.

It's what my wife and I read as we were carving a path down through the South Island in our

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