Floating Tracks ---> My writing snack

“High tide, rain tracks, will stations leave their appointed mid dime?” A voice whispered.

A shake washed me down. Mist touching my face. It snapped all the world into focus.

Here. A water scape. Gentle bumps on the sea. Me sprawled on a floating rock shaped into one synthetic station.

There were train tracks leaving behind a trail. A trail of forgetfulness. Like reality wasn’t real. The water ignored the metal and bronze. It just moved like gentle whales. Barely making any shakes to where I stood up. It was like stairs high up where everything had an cadence. The world far below in the sea bed.

Dirt? Rock? Am I real?

Dan. I’m Dan.

Water painted down further. A single sun lightly kissed every dark place. It sank to find the earth, and I stayed afloat. No clouds just hazy orange, purplish blue. A humid air brushed every hair giving me goose bumps across my shoulders and arms. I hesitantly swallowed.

My black dress shoes tapped. Black socks clung to trembling skin. My casual pants followed up. While my collar shirt was a comfortable sit. Breathing gently. So gently as not to disturb my jittery heart.

Crossed legs I sat back down. There was no bench. Just concrete. I had dreams before. A numbing grip racked my throat. Every memory distant as I remembered my home. I felt an urge to flee. Those memories like drugs that suddenly seemed so inviting. Yet it felt wrong. Home should not feel so fleeting. It was home. Natural as the orchards. Fruit. Wholesome kitchens.

I sighed. It was awfully boring.

Concrete lifting me up. I bounced. Almost on my face. The water agitated. I laid back as gravity asserted like seatbelts. A little whimper shot between clenched teeth and dry lips. Craning my neck, an ache coming in my spine, and eyes cramping with the twist, I saw the water. It looked like one of those sine waves. An even up and down. Like one of my mathematics class. I used to visualize them. Wondering if such even pendulum could exist.

It was here. A train start thumping by. The waves up and down with the clank of every track. It had the glow of accented steel, but stole the sunsets with its matte black. Puffs of green left its chimney. Gravity bounced. Lifting then sealing. That gentle breath I held became ragged, and my heart wanted to bolt. Probably with the train.

Where am I? What sort of nightmare is so mundane?

“You have a choice, Dan. The waves or into the train?” Said a voice.

Or else what? What about staying right here? I have an else right?

“That is the unfortunate third choice. initiating path three. Branching tracks” Said the voice.

It was feminine, but no distinct gender could be determined. Not quite robotic, but no other traits stood out. This voice sounded interested, but lacked any real investment into any outcome. Perhaps my life was just a routine. A starting potential, but nothing else.

When the train finally left the area, my concrete splashed down. Salt stinging some of the cuts I accumulated. A current tugged. And there I was. Like a boat. A rock boat in a sea that barely had any ideas. It seemed this was an awful normal. A weirdness.

In about ten minutes, I floated a mile away. Then stopped. Bubbles formed and cascading up. Sliding up like soda. A little pop hit my shoe. Giant bubbles crawling like bugs and then popping. The leather on my shoes look shriveled. As salt ate at it. Then up surged a new track. Just as pristine and phantom like the last one. The sea didn’t even kiss the brass.

The sunset dipped further. Stars peeked out. No moon, but the celestial lights were spotlights. Greens and purples slicing bits of shadow. Dancing to entice me to sleep. No freakin way I’m doing that. This dream may sink me further.

Just right as the sun held little shine, and the night skies reigned supreme, that feminine voice spoke again.

“I advise to pick this time, Dan. The sea or the train?” Said the voice.

It sounded annoyed. I guessed the voice likes path two I guess. Was it a computer? I hope not. That didn’t sound fun to me.

Wait?

Did it read my mind last time? I was so overwhelmed that the creepiness did not fall in my awareness. No, no. Telepathy. No, no. I hope its not a machine.

“Please pick, Dan. You have two minutes.” Said the voice.

Okay. The sea.

“Are you sure?” It said.

So much for being detached. That voice wanted me on the train. In some weird urge, I stood up and dipped my dress shoe into the water. As I sank down my step, I thought, ‘I can’t walk on water’. But that proved unnecessary. As only my ankle submerged. I stood one step in, frozen by some will, halfway between my rocky station and the tracks.

I heard a mechanical sigh.

“Initiating path three. Branching tracks.” It said.

Apparently path one is path three. I guess the train is the true agenda. Perhaps I am a naughty child.

Does this voice even know what familiar bonds are?

Was it disappointment? I don’t think so. The machine conveyed resignation. Like an admin at a DMV. You know what I am talking about? The picture lady that gives everyone a hard time for no reason? Yeah. That was what I faced right now.

What even did this bored robot want? I am no virtual playable character. I am not playing this game.

I felt the currents tug my station. Yet, I could not move. And my left leg dragged slowly towards the edge.

Ah. Wait… What is this?

“Robot. I can’t move” I said.

A reply came. A bit of heat in its chastising tone.

“Not every branching path is the same, Dan” It said.

The station rolled away. Not even bobbing in the water. My left foot sank just like my right. Except not in parallel to each other. My left shoe tipped back like I was ready at the olympics. Ready to kick off and run. There was no support for my body. Yet I was frozen in time. I couldn’t even fall on my frame. The salt waves ignored me too. Time and water washing by. In this crazy world. Everything mundane.

My actions didn’t matter. I always branched into path three. Should have I picked the train?

“No, Dan. The train will always be here. You must learn before reaching your tracks.” It said.

What? Is the robot trying to be metaphorical here? How am I supposed to learn what has not been taught?

The sun fell away. I stood there. Stuck. And the water cleared like glass. In the reflections, the stars danced and surged. Flickered then receded. A pattern. I followed all the glowing patterns. Branches upon branches. I could follow so many patterns. My mind ached and thirst for distraction. The glassy surface a camera. I became the confused sensor. Studying the stars as they glowed.

Hmmmm. Who is Dan among these moments?

Yes. I had a glitch moment. My mind wearing down. A little bit of inspiration and hysteria mixing in. And those stars seemed so beautiful.

Then the waves became agitated. As the water surged uniformly, the waves raced straight through me. Only my ankles remained wet. Was I the phantom here? I could not move, yet I heard the screaming siren. A whistle cutting through the edges of this weird dripped, sea realm.

The train pilot stopped. Not even a screech. And the point of the front barely shadowed my eyes. It was too sudden to be a normal train. This place felt too synthetic. Too virtual for my tastes.

I heard a splash. A grunting curse came out. Wet suctions. I imagined a frog walking. Amphibian creature? Maybe. But I needed to see. Who knows what space entities really look like. Please no suction based robots. I shuddered.

A rough voice came out. Like a rancher that went to the tracks and took over trains. Then came back and farmed the next morning.

“Dan. ID of 31.” The entity said.

A male voice. Male characteristics.

“31?” I said.

“Yes. Chose path three then number one. A bit scared are we?” He said.

“Yes. Where am I?” I said.

I heard a pause. Yes. His reaction that distinct.

“Straight and honest. I like it.” He said.

I heard a snap. Then I fell forward. But a scaly wrist caught me. As I stood back up, I looked into the eyes of this being. And almost fell back.

Red froggy torso to bottom with a mid section of one purple lizard. The head being the most scary part. A fish looking up. With one eye straining to look at me straight. His big eye twinkled as the strange being read my reaction.

My mouth gaped.

“Now I am very scared.” I said.

He laughed. A booming laugh with warmth. I heard hints of compassion within those joyful sounds.

Am I getting these weird feelings? Why do I feel like this fishy, froggy lizard thing feels familiar. He seems so grandfatherly.

Oh no. Is this some afterlife? Did I miss my grandfather’s passing?

“Calm down, Dan. Don’t looked so confused. An earthling waking up on another planet is not easy.” He assured.

Oh good. It sounded like he had experienced with my kind before.

Wait. Not a dream? No, no. Not even death. He is an outsider in the biggest sense. Or am I the outsider?