This story was originally published in the 2010 arts and literary magazine Inkspeak, an annual publication from Fairhaven College.
I am hit by a blinding glare, as if waking up to sunshine striking me in the face. This is a strange world. I am standing on some sort of brick pathway that stretches ahead of me then suddenly stops. Nothing exists beyond it. As I gaze ahead, I feel my feet begin walking—I am walking. I turn to look behind me and find the world ends just as suddenly as it does in the other direction. This is most peculiar. The sky, a crisp, blue hue, is interrupted by emerald hills, flat and static. Everything feels so close that I should be able to reach out and touch it.
This is a strange world. I notice when I turn, I can only rotate my body 180 degrees—no more, no less. It is a precise and calculated existence with no room for complications. I keep walking and get to a border. I cannot move beyond it. I walk against it, but make no progress. I turn and try the other way, the direction I first faced when I entered this place. To my relief and surprise, the world creates more of itself in front of me. This is the direction I should go.
I pass in front of little bushes that wave methodically in the breeze, as if grasped delicately by each breath of air and pulled this way and that. Then I hear the music—sweet, clean notes dancing around me as if I am surrounded by speakers. I pause for a moment to listen. It is a tune I could see myself whistling to as I move. The gentle, chiming notes put my mind at ease as I move little further and suddenly see something new.
A glowing box is flashing above me. It sits still, in quiet anticipation, as though waiting to be discovered. What could this be? It is too high to see over, but I leap up beneath it. To my surprise, my arm rises like a snake rearing to strike and my fingers clench into a fist. I unwittingly punch the box and a chime blasts over the music for a moment and the box becomes dark. I’m not sure what I just did, but I feel somehow better as if my life has somehow been fortified.
I can’t think about it now, though. Something is sidling toward me. It is has an odd shape and I can see the corner of an eye. It moves deliberately, unflinchingly, seemingly unaware of my presence. I rustle my moustache and stare at the approaching object. I consider jumping out of the way, but maybe I can discover more of this strange world with a little help.
Suddenly, the thing hits me and I lose control. The music changes just as suddenly as I rise up, hands by my shoulders. I marvel with shock as I realize I am facing 90 degrees to my right, but I fall past the brick pathway and everything fades to black.
I am hit by a blinding glare, as if waking up to sunshine striking me in the face.