Back on the porch, Bruce wakes up and looks around.
No other people; no animals. Silence.
He stands up, stretches, and descends the steps from the porch to the ground. There he finds a hole in the ground with a pole sticking straight up in the center of it. It extends upward, apparently infinitely.
It’s a firepole, like one might find in an old-fashioned firehouse.
Bruce steps up to the hole and looks down.
He sighs. He goes back up to the chair on the porch and picks up his Bible. It shrinks a bit in his hand, and he puts it carefully into his back pocket as he descends the steps again. With no further hesitation, he slides down the pole.