I find The Stranger again–whom I've taken to calling just 'The Stranger' in my head–, in a quiet forest clothed in mist and a light drizzle coming down, doing something that contrasts the peaceful environment to such a degree I almost got whiplash from it.
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The trees are beautiful. Almost white moss hangs off the silvery branches that almost glow in the mist. Faintly, I hear the crowing of a bird. The forest smells of wet earth and decaying wood. I know there is a small stream flowing somewhere to my right and I can just barely hear the water rushing over the smooth stones I know are there. I like this patch of forest. It's like the world becomes a black and white pencil sketch with the faintest wash of watercolor. I hear the crowing of the bird again. What kind of bird is that? I've never heard it before, and I've gone on walks in this forest too many times to count. I decide to follow the crowing. I might not find anything, but it is still fun to look for a new kind of bird, yes?
The crowing gets louder as I approach the stream and... the crowing starts to sound rough and scratchy. I wonder what kind of bird makes that kind of- HOLY SHEET MUSIC- The Stranger—or who I think is The Stranger—is kneeling there, throwing up water into the stream. I start to back away. This is not my problem. I will not deal with it until the Firebird, Baba Yaga, and the Gray Wolf come and make me. They all have to come together. I'm just going to walk away. Then The Stranger turns around and spots me. Well, shucks. Again, I did not prepare to face this awkward situation. I should probably take classes on awkward situations or something of the like. We stare at each other for a moment and I have a split second to register the well concealed panic in their eyes then the coughing stops and they look just as they did back on the great wall, like they haven't been vomiting water half a second ago.
"... I would like to-" The Stranger stops and turns to cough up another mouthful of water, "apologize that you had to see that."
I... I did not expect that. But again, I'm not sure what I was expecting, because I just walked in on a stranger I talked to briefly coughing up water.
"A-ah. No, no, I-" I cringe internally at my awkwardness, "I'll just leave now."
I turn and walk in the opposite direction. That was not my problem.
... If it's not my problem, why can't I stop thinking about it? I am going to keep my promise. It will not be my problem until the Firebird, Baba Yaga, and the Gray Wolf come and force me. Hopefully. I'll wait until I meet The Stranger again. Which, hopefully, never happens.
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Aaa
ivan is such a little child
also
vote?
pls?