An Unexpected Journey

I’ve been stuck inside for 3 weeks, 4 days, 21 minutes, and 10 seconds. Make that fifteen seconds, twenty. But who’s counting? Not me. I was never the most social person to begin with. In fact, I often found solace in a good book and a hot cup of tea. The idea of partying eluded me and at the ripe old age of 22, I found much more enjoyment in the simple things in life. That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy the occasional game night with friends or my weekly outing at the local hole-in-the-wall Mexican place to get my fill of bottomless chips and salsa and one…or two salt-rimmed margaritas. I wouldn’t label myself as boring; I just preferred my adventures lived through the lives of others on a printed page. And don’t even get me started on that Kindle bullshit because nothing compares to turning the pages of a real book, the intoxicating smell of a used bookstore, or even the tiny rips and marks in a book so old that they tell a story of their own. We all have a story. That’s why I hope you’re prepared for a riveting tale. Well, more riveting than the mundane existence I and anyone else has had in the last month. And since none of us are going anywhere, anytime soon, I figure you’d be up to listen.

I stumbled out of bed at 9am. I recall wishing I could’ve slept longer but my bladder had other ideas. It was neither late nor early but in quarantine, time seemed to cease to exist. After visiting the restroom, I decided since I was up, I may as well have breakfast and get a head start on my day of reading for nine hours before I did something useful with my exuberant amount of free time. I dragged myself to my tiny kitchen and threw open the fridge, utterly thrilled that I’d opted to buy cinnamon rolls on my weekly shopping trip. Screw being thin, I was going to be happy. “Come to mama.” Except, when I opened the fridge, my cinnamon rolls were nowhere in sight. In fact, all the contents of my once filled refrigerator had vanished. Instead, a sight appeared before me that I was certain was a dream. And being the logical sort of person that I am, I stepped inside. 

I was clearly deluded. I must have fallen asleep on the couch while reading my latest fantasy novel fascination. That or I was going entirely insane from spending so much time cooped up by myself. I honestly didn’t care what this meant or how some magic portal appeared in my fridge overnight. I was sick of being stuck inside and I was definitely not in my tiny apartment anymore. In fact, I had no idea where I was. I began to walk through a massive valley towards a meager yet enchanted looking cabin. All around butterflies danced in the sweet-smelling air and the sun rose high above the white-capped mountains that loomed above like sleeping giants. I felt no fear walking through this strange land, only peace and wonder. Was I a heroine, destined to save the world? Would I find a cure for the sickness that plagued my world or was I tasked to fix this world’s problems in exchange for the protection of my own? Although I didn’t know where I was, I knew in my heart, in my soul that I was somewhere else entirely from earth. Was I dead? Or maybe I was drugged? I continued to walk towards the little log cabin. I could feel my heart racing in my chest and my palms became moist and clammy. I rubbed them on my pants only to realize that I hadn’t bothered to change out of my pajamas. What a way to make a first impression. I hoped whatever wise old sage lurked behind this door had no objection against llama pants or oversized t-shirts.

My hand became a fist as I reached out to knock on the door, my heart beating so fast, you’d think I’d just ran a marathon. I knocked. There was no answer. I knocked again and again until my knuckles turned raw and the sound of my fists against wood deafened the noise of my beating heart. I wasn’t typically the type of person to trespass but I’d just walked into my refrigerator so I figured, no harm, no foul. I tried the knob but the door was locked. So I walked around the side and look through the window. The sight before me was nothing strange. There was a small bed in the corner, an armchair, a small table with a lamp, and a fireplace against the back wall that held an ancient-looking cooking pot. I simply shrugged and continued on through the valley. In the back, behind the house, I found a small vegetable garden. My stomach rumbled making a sound like a whale’s mating call, reminding me I had skipped breakfast. I spied what looked like the tops of carrots and pulled one up out of the ground. I inspected it then wiped off as much dirt as I could on my pants and took one greedy bite. My tongue rejected the faint taste of dirt that remained on the carrot but my stomach reveled in the satisfaction of nourishment. I kept walking until I spied a small boat moored to the side of a lazily flowing river on the far side of the valley. I contemplated the consequences of getting into that boat. What if the portal closed? If I spent too much time in this strange land and was trapped here forever, it would bring isolation to a whole new level. I still had no proof that anyone else even lived here. Then again, when would I ever have another chance like this. I rowed that boat gently down the stream and wondered, if life was a dream, then was this reality? Maybe this whole time I’d been asleep and I was finally waking up. 

My rowing slowed as I looked into the distance. Just how far would I go to escape what I left behind? And how did I know that what I was pursuing was any better than what I was leaving behind? I continued on until I spied an endless field of wildflowers. Something inside me fluttered and I became giddy with the notion of living out an old childhood fantasy of mine. I pulled my boat ashore and ran into the field, spinning and jumping, and laughing until I fell over and inhaled deeply. I lay there for a moment and attempted to think of nothing. In that instant, the only thing I wanted was to exist in that time and place without remembering the mistakes of the past or dreading the ones I was bound to make in the future. The sun warmed my skin and the sound of twittering birds sang in my ears like nature’s symphony. A small breeze blew across the field and as I tried to exist in that moment alone, I could feel my breaths getting slower and deeper.

The next thing I knew my eyes shot open and I sat up stalk straight breathing quick and frightened breaths. The air was still warm but the day had turned to night. I’d half expected to wake up on the couch in my apartment with a cup of tea, chilled after hours of neglect. For a moment, I wondered if this world had turned to a dark and dismal place once the sun went down. I had been tricked and soon a pack of wolves or a terrifying sorceress would jump out of the woods and torture me in untold ways until I revealed some unknown secret. Maybe it was finally time for my quest to begin. In that case, I should get up. Again, I was wishing I’d dressed before coming here. Maybe my fairy godmother would appear soon and bippity boppity boop me a badass outfit. I waited for a moment, but nothing happened. I decided it was time to go home, as my journey was becoming a lot less eventful than I had reckoned. I looked up to the sky and my jaw dropped in awe. A billion stars encrusted the deep blue sky, making it sparkle like my eyes do when someone brings me free donuts. My heart fluttered as lightning bugs dances around the open field and lit my way to the boat. I had been so preoccupied with my own thoughts, I hadn’t realized there was nothing to fear at all. I made my way to the boat and took my time rowing back towards the cabin and the doorway into my homeworld. The lightning bugs were my companions on the journey back and the sheer beauty of this land kept me in a daze until I stepped back through the portal. I didn’t even notice the smoke puffing out of the cabin’s chimney or the pair of kind yet curious eyes that watched me as I passed back into my world. 

The first thing I did after stepping through the portal was open and shut my fridge, but whatever had been there before was gone now. I grabbed the carton of orange juice and took a long swig. That carrot didn’t do much for my appetite and I was ravenous. I looked around the kitchen for a snack when I spied a platter of cinnamon rolls on my dining room table. Strange, I thought. I picked one up and bit into it as warm icing ran down my face. They were freshly baked. But that was impossible, I lived alone. I simply shrugged, grabbed another cinnamon roll and retreated to the sofa to finish my latest novel. When life gifts you cinnamon rolls, it’s best not to question it.