My stomach sinks as I realize I already missed a day of work, and not just any day—the day with the biggest meeting of my career.
Grandmother is going to kill me. And then fire me. Not sure which is worse.
But there is no way I’m taking this lying down. I will make my way back home and fix this. I’m resolute and determined. Heart Springs or whatever the fuck it’s called didn’t realize what they were signing up for when they took on Campbell Andrews, but they’re about to find out. I have a goal, and I will achieve it. I don’t know how to do anything else.
And yeah, the walk starts to get exhausting. And yes, it seems like despite the straight path, I’m really traveling in a circle. I suppose that’s to be expected when all the houses here look exactly the same. Surely I’m making progress because the slight ache in my thighs means I’ve been walking for a while.
But the road in front of me looks exactly the same as the road behind.
I wish I knew how much time had passed, but in reality, it doesn’t matter. I haven’t reached my destination, and therefore, I have to keep going.
Finally, who knows how many hours later, I spot a sign of life in the form of the mailman. He’s walking down the sidewalk toward me, and it’s like he appeared out of thin air, whistling a jaunty tune as he tucks envelopes into each mailbox.
But I’m so desperate, I don’t even care where he came from or how he got there. I rush to his side. “Hi, excuse me, could you point me in the direction of New York City? I need to get there as soon as possible, it’s kind of an emergency.”
“New York City?” the man exclaims, a wide grin on his face. “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever had the fortune of traveling to the big city, ma’am.”
“Yes, yes, I can’t imagine you would. But surely you know the general direction? Am I at least going the right way?”
“Well now, young lady, I don’t think it would be safe for you to venture out to a place like New York City all by yourself. You should probably turn around and head right back home.” He pats me on the shoulder and moves along the sidewalk, heading in the direction I came from.
“Yeah, see, the whole thing is, I’m trying to get back home. New York City is my home!” I call to his back. He doesn’t turn around, his whistling tune fading the farther he gets from me.
I spin back around and may or may not stomp my foot in frustration before I continue on my way.
Eventually, the sun starts to sink, so if nothing else, time does still seem to function here, wherever here might be. I don’t want to admit it, but the more I walk, the less likely it seems that this might be all in my head. Why haven’t I woken up by now?
I pause for a moment, which is a big mistake. Once my muscles are no longer in motion, they seize up.
“Shit,” I mutter, bending over to stretch.
I need to keep going.
But even I can see this has turned into a fruitless mission. I’ve been walking all day and I’m still in practically the same location I was this morning.
My hands fall to my knees, my head drooping. “Fuck.”
I pull myself up straight, pushing back my aching shoulders.
And I turn around, ready to make the long walk back to what I guess is my new home, down but definitely not out.
Only to see said home is a mere ten feet ahead of me. It’s like I’ve been on a treadmill all day, racking up the step count but making zero actual progress.
I trudge the remaining distance and walk back through the gate I never bothered to close.
“I don’t think this is a dream,” a deep voice says.
I turn to face my neighbor’s house and find Ben sitting on the front porch of his matching home, though his is blue, and I’m really not digging the gendered color scheme here. He’s kicked back in a wooden rocking chair like some kind of little old man, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle like this is just another normal day.
“What brought you to that conclusion?” I’ve been thinking the same thing, but I want to hear his reasons too, in case they’re easy for me to refute.
“I saw Mimi.” He gives me a small smile that is possibly meant to be comforting but isn’t really, given the state of everything around us.
I cross to the fence separating our yards. “What did she say?”
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “That’s between me and Mimi. But you should go talk to her.”
“No thanks.” My legs are begging me to sit down, and I know I need to get inside before they can physically hold me no longer. “I’m still ninety-nine percent sure this is all just a terrible nightmare. Therefore, I’m going back to bed and fully planning on waking up in my own apartment.”
