Would you believe that on Friday I thought it was Wednesday, and then didn’t realize it until like 7:00 PM after David was home and I realized he was excited for the weekend, which started the next day? Man was I out of it. I totally meant to keep up with this clip. *le sigh. I’ll be way more on top of things next Friday, hopefully. Oh and remember–this is entirely unedited and written for a high word count. December will be the month of editing, cleaning, and general trimming.
“ ‘Allo, there,” the creature uttered in a gravely hoarse voice as it leered up at her. Speaking revealed yellow, sharp little teeth, teeth that sent an uncontrollable shudder down the back of Sara’s spine, as if small burning drops of ice were falling sequentially on each vertebrae. The creature was the brown color of a dried out river bed and his thick, polished leather skin was covered in warts of various degrees of size and shading. He was bald excepting for a few wirey curls on the black of his hair. The cementing glue to a new reality for Sara’s brain, however, was that the creature had clothes on. They were more like rags, really, but rags colored varying shades of purple, from his lavender trousers to his mauve scarf.
I must be dreaming, she thought to herself as she shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate on the traffic. Sara quickly tried to dodge a black oversized Dodge Toyota while holding her hand up to the reluctant and orange Honda Fit that wasn’t eager to let her into the lane. The gesture being universal car sign language for ‘thank you’, ‘I’m sorry’, and ‘I’m putting myself first’ all at once.
“Hope you don’t mind me hoppin’ a ride, miss, but I’m in a’ awful ‘urry, I am, and I ‘ve been waitin’ for a while an’ I’m just sick of it, so hows about a lift, yeah?Won’t be long now, no miss, won’t be long now,” the toadish gnome uttered, his syllables rounded with an unexpected chipper and frank demeanor.
It was the cockney accent, garbled as it was through his croaky vocal cords, that cemented the squat little creature into her own world, making it real. She was finding out, though, that just because she was willing to believe an object was real did not lead automatically to any less confusion, disorientation, or the feeling of ever growing panicked hysteria bubbling up inside her chest.
If her head hadn’t been swimming with all the jigsaw puzzle pieces of the moment that were demanding connecting, she might have thought there was a strange glint that passed across his eyes. Even if she had, however, it is more likely she would have attributed the phenomenon to a chance sun ray as the likeliest culprit. Regardless, Sara was still too occupied trying to connect the pieces of the surreal new reality she found herself in, all while still staying upright and level headed on two wheels. It was a feat made particularly complicated by the ancient and battered car that barreled solidly through the driver’s interpretation of a California stop as its projected right turn aimed squarely on the space of road shared by her bike. The driver lurched to a stop and held up his hands in exasperation, confident that he was in the right. Sara rolled her eyes, took a deep breath and tried not to get too carried away with whatever supernatural experience was happening in the realm of her bicycle basket.
“Oy there, that car almost hit ya—better be careful, miss, I’d be liking to arrive at me stop safely, I would. You alright, then, with me hitchin’ a ride on ya?”
“Err yeah, that’s fine. Where are you going?” Sara was distracted as she asked her question as she veered off the main road to a smaller road that connected with a bike path. It didn’t go the full length to her destination, home, but she recognized the possibility that she was probably a little too distracted to give her full attention to traffic. It also didn’t hurt that she was getting fed up with the poor drivers on the road and was ready for at least some reprieve.