Back To the Surface and Back Home

With each bob of his head, he drew closer and closer to land and suddenly the sounds of the forest overtook him again. He was no longer being cradled by Wren and instead, was laying on the side of the cold, damp road again. Tentatively, he tried to sit upright, expecting the same agony to overtake him but to his surprise, was able to orient himself. His feet were shaky, and he could hear his car idling once more. Taking a moment to drink in the sweet sounds of a more familiar forest before finding his legs beneath him and taking a cautious step back towards his car. The stomach dropping realization that the deer was still gone caused him to whip around, expecting to see Wren hiding somewhere just out of sight but to his knowledge he was alone.

“Wren? Hello?” He called out. The only response the woods offered were the reverberating echoes of his own voice. A glance at the hood of the car revealed little to no damage and he would have had a hard time believing he’d even hit anything. He fumbled with his car door, unsure of whether to call anyone as he slowly began his course home. He’d snapped. Gone off the rails. Nobody in their right mind would believe that he’d hit a deer and as a result was flung into some otherworld bullshit. The car accelerated in time with his discomfort as he hammered his foot onto the gas. The engine did not give him the satisfying purr of a sports car or the desired increase in speed seeing as it was an SUV, but it felt good to have some sort of agency in the world.

The remainder of the drive home was spent savoring every car that passed him and every seemingly normal human being he could see through the windows. Normal people, living normal lives in a normal world. It was reassuring and in a strange way soothing as he neared an intersection, to see the snowplows readying for their annual vigil across the windswept streets. Christmas was on the horizon and it was almost reflexive how quickly he began a guessing game about whether his parents would get him more kitchen utensils for his apartment or another strange little statuette or piece of small town paraphernalia to fill the space that Esme had left. He hung a left and soon, he was on a straight shot down the pipe stem to his home.