Viscera and Other Tales

Da Untraveled Rud

At night I dream of the road.

In my dream, I'm leaning against a sign. My frayed jeans and white top are bloodied. I'm wearing cracked sunglasses and I'm afraid.

The bus isn't arriving, I know it isn't. I'm forever stuck here, back resting against a big yellow sign that reads 'BUS STOP'.

My stomach is in knots. Something bad is going to happen. I look across the road.

On the other side of the street, past the partition, there's another road. It's stormy over there, but it seems less scary than where I am.

My road is hot and humid, but the stormy road is calming. Rain, thunder, beautiful cracks of lightning. I start to walk towards it when suddenly my dream ends.

I'm back in bed.

At work, I tell my coworkers about my dreams. I can tell they're only half interested, maybe slightly bored.

"But how is it scary?" My friend Amelia asks.

"It's not super scary, not in the traditional sense I guess. Foreboding would probably be a better word."

"Huh." She says, turning the conversation to last night's episode of some show I don't watch. Not for any pretentious reasons, I'm just bad at keeping up with TV.

I look around the office and see Corrine staring at me. She's a weirdo, never seems to interact with anyone unless forced to, but she's always staring. She has a bad speech impediment and we think that's why she's so closed off.

I make eye contact and she looks away, back towards her work.

I turn back to focus on mine.

At home that night, I'm on my laptop trying to find meaning in my dreams. Best I can find is I'm suffering from a 'grass is always greener' type want. The stormy road, though scary, is more comforting than what I have now.

But am I really missing something from my life?

I don't feel like I am, but psychology is strange and who knows what's in my subconscious.

My laptop dings and I see I've gotten an email. I open it up and see an image file. Despite my better judgement and fears of it being a virus I click it and see a painting of a road.

The one from my dreams.

Below it, typed out in all caps reads: THE UNTRAVELED ROAD - ARTIST UNKNOWN.

My hands are shaking as I slam the laptop shut. I run to the restroom and throw up into my toilet. When I go back to my laptop, I build up the courage to open the email again.

I click the link and...nothing happens.

The image won't load anymore. I go to Google and type The Untraveled Road painting.

Nothing.

Well nothing that matches what I saw at least.

I go back to the email and look at the sender, but I don't recognize it. I start to type out a response.

In it, I question who they are, what the painting is, how they know me. I hit send and then close the laptop. I go to my room and try to sleep.

That night, I dream of the roads again. I'm against the bus stop but this time, on the stormy road, I see a figure.

Gaunt, hair draped over its face, it's swaying ever so softly. I feel more fear than ever, I can't take my eyes off it.

There's a laugh as the figure charges towards me, I scream and wake up, drenched in sweat.