A Walk in the Park

Yesterday, I went for a walk in the park, enjoying the colors and smells of a ripe summer. At times I even went so far as to close my eyes, moving where the breeze took me. It was completely safe.

Along the path, there was an extremely tall tree. Its roots were so large that I could fit comfortably underneath them. I couldn’t see the back of the roots, so I moved off the path and under the roots. I was somewhat surprised as I entered, for the inside was larger than a hollow in a tree should be. In fact, it almost resembled a hallway.

Feeling slightly like Alice wandering into the rabbit hole, I strode down the hallway. Gradually all the traces of earth faded away, and after a few minutes of walking the hallway looked as though it belonged in a mansion. There were even portraits on the wall, their faces smiling softly and gently, their eyes unfocused and gazing away.

After another few minutes, the hallway ended with a large double door. Still curious, I pushed open one of the doors and entered. Inside I found a long table, elegantly set in a regal manner. All along the table was the most delicious-looking food that I had ever seen.

Enjoying this food were twelve people, six men and six women, wearing clothes fit for kings and queens. Their demeanors and faces, like the portraits in the hallway, inspired an instant trust and friendship. Relaxed by this trustworthiness, I approached them, the smells from the table making my mouth water.

There was one empty chair at the table, so I sat, wanting to make conversation but too hungry for the food that I couldn’t. I ate as fast as possible for a period of time, stopping occasionally to wash down the food with the most delicious punch I’d ever drunk.

Finally, I sat back, satisfied. The others at the table smiled openly, also finishing their meals. I was so full that I didn’t want to talk. In fact, what I wanted to do was sleep, but instead I took the opportunity to observe my hosts, if indeed they were the owners of this strange house, more closely.

The faces of the twelve, both the male and female, were the very images of beauty, wisdom, and kindness. I thought myself to be fairly handsome, but in that moment I felt quite ugly. However, I felt assured that my new friends would not think less of me for my appearance, no matter how much better they looked.

In fact, I noticed, their faces looked almost too beautiful, to rigid. All at once, as though it were an optical illusion, my perspective changed. The faces I had been admiring were obviously masks, their fine clothes nothing more than cheap costumes. Under the masks, things were shifting in a way that should not have been possible.

I was immediately afraid, but, my curiosity still abounding, I reached out to the nearest of my hosts and pulled of the mask. What I had thought to be flawless skin peeled easily away, revealing beneath it the hard exoskeleton of a giant bug. Its pinchers snapped menacingly in the air.

With a sudden suspicion, I spun and glanced down at the food I’d been consuming. On the surface it appeared to be appetizing, but under the surface, it was rotten, dripping pus and oozing maggots.

I shoved away from the table, nausea coursing through me. My hosts, appearing startled, also surged to their feet. As they did, their costumes burst open, and they fell forward, all of them gigantic insects.

My turn toward the door seemed to take a thousand years. My ears were filled with the dry, rustling sounds of the insects moving toward me, mouths gnashing hungrily. I almost flew out of the door, and set off sprinting down the hallway.

As I ran, visions of my death at the hands of the insects danced in my eyes. The smell of blood filled my nose, and the taste of my own vomit filled my mouth. The eyes of the portraits watched my escape, the idle eyes of the dead. Perhaps they were the others that had wandered into that horrible room.

At last I burst from the tree, out from between the roots. I was back in the park. But it was different. The landmarks were the same, but every shadow beckoned, every color was dark, ever sound was ominous. I passed a group of children playing a game, and for a moment I saw little ogres, cackling with glee as they tossed a severed head back and forth.

Today I sat home in my room, glaring mistrustfully out at a world that doesn’t care for me, a universe that will not hesitate to trample me into the dust for no reason at all. At first, I thought my former perspective might return, but now I know better. Now I see the world as it truly is, the truth unaltered.

I wish with my heart I did not.