A Bigfoot Kick Story
Everything he thought about reality vanished when the sun attacked the fog. His soles carried weathered memories but nothing would be familiar if he decided to take one more step.
He crept forward until the world around him radiated into view. Sparkles of light danced through fluttery particles, scattering the foggy remnants on a heated breeze. He was looking at a world that was real enough—familiar enough—but somehow…off. His mind was a dusky haze, failing to recollect how he even got here.
Now. At this very place. A very…weird place.
What was he doing before? Just a minute ago, he’d barely made it on the subway, slipping past those black rubber clasps, shoving his way past unfriendly faces in a full-blown seat reconnaissance. And then in a blink….he was here. Had he blacked out? Fell asleep? But if so, how’d he get here, exactly? Panic set in.
“Was I drugged? Did I develop some weird sleep-walking syndrome? Oh god, am I dead? Did I die? Am I in one of those scenes where I’m lying on hospital table, gown all open, guts in a pan while the doc talks to some overworked residents about how in this life, you can’t save everyone”. His thoughts ran amuck like a squirrel on the freeway.
Ugh.
Get it together. He wasn’t nursing a hangover. His blood was racing around his body as real as ever. He checked for needle marks to make sure no one slipped him a stick. He ran his tongue around his mouth trying to taste for any foreign contaminants.
Nothing.
Whatever this was or wherever he was, it was real. But wait…this shirt is definitely new. And these pants…I don’t own anything like this. They feel…rugged. Tactical. Yet, like something straight out of a 5th Avenue ad. Luxurious. The kind of luxury you only hear about from the exploits of the chosen few capable enough to sport such threads.
“Maybe I was in a hospital, some nurse changed me, and here I am, wandering the countryside like some knock off Jason Bourne”. He stormed through his pockets, nothing. No wallet. No phone. No keys. Not even a piece of lint to show for his troubles.
He didn’t realize how long he’d been walking until he came to a bank, the terrain changing from a lush grass to a buttercream sand. He looked across a still-dead lake and and blinked, confused. That…that couldn’t be, he shook his head and shrugged.
He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyelids raw for good measure and tried again. But sure enough, as he stared into the distance he saw what looked like….like ladybugs the shape and size of basketballs. Vivid pinks and blues and yep - big af.
That’s it. I fell into a void and am trapped on Skeleton Island. And I am definitely going to die. Or maybe this is Jurassic Park. Either way - toast. What in the absolute weird fu….
A gruff voice scoffed from behind him, “Weird? That ain’t weird. You’re weird, weirdo.”
He looked over his shoulder to locate the voice and there, about a first down away, parked against a sprawling titan of a tree was…well…there is no way on earth that’s what I think it is…
To be continued...
