2025-09-28
This is a short story previously posted on the Substack. Enjoy!
My eyes snapped open.
My head was throbbing as I lay on the ground. Beneath me was coarse grass and soil. My vision was blurry at first, but began to clear as I got my senses and the pain in my head diminished. I seemed to be in some kind of forest adjacent to a trail of sorts. The pathway was clear but there was still a moderate amount of growth surrounding it. It was mostly bushes and grass, not too difficult to traverse.
The trees were tall and wide with leaves that radiated a classic forest green. I couldn’t tell what kind they were though, just trees really. It was nighttime and the moon shone brightly alongside the stars. The air was still, no breeze to be felt. Everything felt spacey, but all the while still vivid and real.
I got to my feet and took a better look at my surroundings. There wasn’t much besides the forest and the trail and it didn’t seem like there was much else in the distance, just a sea of trees. I was having a hard time remembering where I was or what I was doing before waking up there. The memory was too distant and clouded.
I looked at the trail and didn’t see much ahead, so I decided to move along it to see where it would take me. I walked for a while, but don’t remember for how long. It was a bit of a challenge traversing through the growth, but I managed to do so just fine. As I was walking along the trail, the growth dissipated and it got easier to walk through it. In the distance I saw a small ember and some other figures that suggested a camp of some kind.
I could see the camp, which contained a single tent, some stands and equipment propped up, and a man sitting by the makeshift campfire. He was an older man, perhaps in his seventies. He was wearing a denim jacket with a flannel underneath it and jeans and brown leather boots. On his head was a white felt cowboy hat. He had a long white beard that went down to his chest. As I approached the campsite, he noticed me and waved his hand.
—Well there you are, partner.
I was confused. How could he be expecting me? I most certainly wasn’t expecting him. I was a bit perturbed by that, but his demeanor seemed friendly and trusting. He had a jubilant countenance, so I assumed that he was hopefully well-intentioned. I spoke back up.
—Were you expecting me?
He adjusted himself in his seat, a tree stump. He considered his response as I saw him turn his head and stare into the distance. He turned his head back to me.
—The last person I saw said to be expecting you, or at least someone who looks like you.
—And how long ago was this?
—Ah, some time ago. I don’t remember how long it’s been. All I remember is what happened.
It’s strange that both of our memories seem to have trouble showing themselves, but there wasn’t much we could do about it. I decided to prod him for different details.
—Where are we, exactly?
—Well that one does have a simple answer. We’re in the Right Now.
I was caught off guard. What kind of an answer was that? I was expecting the name of an actual place, not some kind of riddle. Then I started trying to think of names of actual places, ones that I’ve been to or heard about. But then I realized that I couldn’t recall a single one of them. I could think of them and see them in my mind, but the names felt almost erased like some kind of editor was in my head redacting certain details. I then realized that the only name I know of a place is the one I’m currently in.
—That’s strange. I can’t think of any place other than here. There are other ones, right?
—You know, I have a strange feeling you’re right, but I can’t think of any other places that aren’t here.
—But this is just a forest. There’s nothing else here besides you, me, and foliage. Why can’t we remember these things?
—I wouldn’t concern yourself too much with those kinds of details, partner. I did that a long time ago and it worked wonders for me.
Details? I usually don’t have to wrestle with details, they’re just there. I couldn’t seem to figure out what happened. Perhaps some kind of amnesia, maybe even a virus could have done this. As I thought about it more, things around me began to fracture. The fire started to change colors and the trees began to bend and twist in strange formations and the ground beneath me began to shake violently. The cowboy called to me.
—Quit thinking about it! You’ll lose the whole damn thing if you do. Just think about the fire, it’ll stop all the racket.
I redirected my thoughts towards the fire and tried to think about nothing else but the fire. Its hue began to solidify back to orange and then everything else around me began to restabilize. I kept gazing into it, almost going into a sort of trance. Eventually the cowboy spoke back up to me, snapping me out of it.
—Sorry partner, those kinds of thoughts aren’t allowed here.
—What kind of thoughts?
—The ones where you try to go into the past or the future. You were thinking about old places, and that makes everything here fall apart. You don’t want to know what happens after that.
—Say it does happen. What happens then?
—You get lost in memories, some yours, others that aren’t. You forget more and more. Eventually you get lost in them and never come back. Believe me, you don’t want to be anywhere else but here.
—And what exactly is here?
—Well, it’s the Right Now. That’s about it. There’s not much else to be said.
—And what if I want to go somewhere else?
—Like I said, you don't want to be anywhere else but here.
The cowboy’s statements sounded completely preposterous to me. I don’t even know how I got here, yet I can’t leave? I wasn’t sure if I was dead and this was some kind of torturous afterlife, but it seemed odd that some kind of judgemental god wouldn’t even give me memories of my transgressions. This seemed like something else entirely, but I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. It seemed that the cowboy knew more than me, so I tried getting some answers.
—How long have you been here?
There was a pause as the cowboy gathered his thoughts.
—Oh, I’m not sure. Could be weeks, months, years, but I don’t think I could give you a surefire answer. This is all I know, really. Sometimes I’ll be in a forest, other times a desert, and on occasion there won’t be anything at all.
—Nothing at all? Like a black void?
—You could call it that. I don’t sleep either, really. I’m always moving, trying to get to that next place. But I always end up right back where I started, usually with more questions than answers.
—That sounds awful.
—Oh don’t worry partner, it’s not all bad. Interesting things always happen here. You just have to make sure not to get trapped by your thinking. Your thoughts are what matter most here. No need to worry about certain trappings like money or, uh, pleasures of the flesh I guess. It’s purer living here, plain and simple.
As I considered the cowboy’s words, I began to hear a whirring from high up in the sky. It sounded like some kind of aircraft, but when I looked up I couldn’t see anything. The whirring grew louder and then bright fluorescent lights began to shine onto the camp. I looked up, but still nothing in sight except for the light. A rope ladder dropped down from the light right in front of the campfire. The cowboy and I put our hands over our eyes to block the brightness of the light and we looked at the rope ladder. The cowboy shouted at me through the whirring.
—I think this one’s for you, partner!
I stared at the ladder and wasn't sure what to think of it. The confusion kept piling on and at this point, I had no idea what climbing that ladder would mean for me. As I stared, the whirring got louder and louder to the point where I wouldn't be able to hear the cowboy anymore if he spoke up again. The light coming from the sky kept spreading and getting brighter. It almost blinded me and I had to keep my eyes completely closed to keep the rays of light from damaging my eyes. From there, I knew it was too late.
My eyes snapped open.