To understand the tragedy we first must understand the comedy of the situation. That night 7 year old johnny had a school project due and nothing done. He should have been taking his Adderall and yet now he was looking out the window letting his mind run free. Then his eye caught the reflection of the moon and for a second the moon looked back. Johnny swiveled his chair to the window, pressing his face to it in shock. But by then the moon was a satellite again, nothing more. Down the street, and into the thick woods on the roadside buck was hunting for some midnight game. He takes a shot at a deer and decimates the livelihood of a poor tree, and in the flicker of his muzzle he sees it too. An eye peering at him. It is right on center of the moon, covering would be craters in a slimy pupil. The eye is soaking wet with tears. The eye is bloodshot with veins so huge they could tower over skyscrapers. The eye is too much to handle. Buck runs home that night, faster than a scared doe. Now for the tragedy.
On the only road that goes through that hellish town a car catches a glimpse of the eye in its headlights. Danny slams on his breaks. The world stops with him. His hands are numb, his skin is cold. The only thing he can feel is the sweat on his back matching the tears on the eyes crescent bottom. Then the first one drops with a plink. It lands on the hood, then to Danny's horror, it goes through the hood. He Curb stomps his accelerator but by then the tears where come down hard. Thousands of droplets were going through the metal of the cars chassis, hundreds through the front windshield. His foot was burning now, a droplet had made its way into his shoe. Sweat dripped into his eye, his view blurred and... his bumper listed onto the roadside. Steam came up from the haul of the machine, black blood leaking onto the branches below his wheels. Forward, forward, further further down into nature the synthetic boar dropped. Then it crumpled under the force of a spruce tree. Expletives turned to silent grunts. his teeth are loose allowing the words slip out of his mouth and onto the airbag.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
"Fuck"
He sits there in silence for a moment. Crickets buzz, wind blows by on its daily commute down to the I-81. A chip of glass falls from his windshield and Danny watches it land on his thigh. His shoulder slams into the driver side door, releasing a whirlwind of loose glass as it knocking leans open. He sets out his first leg only to feel a pain shoot up his side as he sets it down. Broken, he holds his face and lets out a weak sigh. Damned to not only hitchhike but limp while doing it, great. Hes half way up the slope when he sees the condition of the road. Burns scorched inches deep. Hole after hole, each billowing up steam like an induvial smoke stack. Eventually a car passes, and after far longer a car stops and picks up Danny. As he watches the wood pass he gets a horrible feeling. Like those were not holes, but strokes. Hits from a brush so huge its force burned through all on its canvas. The worst part was, he was write. Written all across Krooksville was the message. The piece etched into its foundation. Three words and a period.
"Leave our wonderland"
