Stuff That Happens

He sat at the table with the rest of them. The room was a bit too dim for comfort and he had to lean at an odd angle on his chair. The pink one stared at him, and he stopped to wonder. All this time and he’d gotten on without knowing their names. How curious.

“Would you like to know my name,” she offered.

“Sounds like a good deal, certainly I’d like that,” he gave an honest answer.

But she giggled in response. “Oh it’s not that easy. What are you going to give me first?”

A complication. He did a quick check of the inventory, carrying nothing significant other than a horseshoe. He wasn’t about to barter away that. “How about the soul then, for whatever that’s good for?”

“Well not much,” her grin broke, “but it’ll do.”

A purposeful look from her and he felt much lighter and free, as if relieved of a weight he’d been unaware of carrying or leaked some excess liquid. He found either enjoyable.

“Now,” she prompted, “are you sure what you want?”

“I want to go forward,” he spoke without knowing what he was saying, always preferring sense in these matters.

And the pink one cackled, “Oh you’re daft!”

He gazed down in shame and thought to try a proper response. But when he looked back up, the table was gone. Here he was in a sunny landscape with an inviting stretch of road. A strange happening, but he thought it was what he’d wanted and followed it.