Wyl wanted to cry, he wanted to scream. The frustration level had reached a point where he needed to release the turbulent emotions that had begun bubbling up within his very self. Except to do so, to release those emotions in that way, would prove to be quite difficult if not impossible. That would require going back, and, well, he didn’t know how that exactly would work, except to say that would entail solidifying his presence in the world which he would call reality.
The world that didn’t seem to exist anymore.
Remember that popular spot a couple blocks away? Where the hotspot not only attracted many people but low-key and cool? Or maybe consider how nice a stroll through a park could be during an autumn day. Finding the latest release of a video game to be as captivating as the previous version, if not better. Chomping into a nice hot snack.
Wyl recalled. That was what he was doing over the past several … moments? Hours? Days? He didn’t know how to define time anymore. Didn’t know if he existed in such a concept.
Whether he simply existed beyond such a construct after, after, well, his little navigation exercise involving his mind. A journey that pushed beyond the typical physical and mental barriers. He pictured his life to get himself back to where the word familiar would be given meaning. He pictured …
The time when he reached out to Val in the supermarket just as she was tripping, falling, his right hand grabbing her left arm, pulling her to himself, their sudden closeness stirring feelings within them.
Muscle stretching and contracting underneath flesh…
Envisioning when he joined the softball team, standing at the plate feeling doubts, yet connecting with the ball in a way to create a feeling within himself, not to mention how he then ran with such a gusto around the bases, getting just a little bit of confidence when he needed it…
Hamstrings and tendons churning the body forward…
Even a simple act – no, the chittering – the chittering again! Wyl wanted to scream, call attention, say something, anything. Except no one would hear. No, he seriously doubted that anyone would hear anything he had to say. Maybe never again.
But – a simple act. Akin to bursting for the subway just before the doors closed…
Blood running through veins…
Taking the sip of a fine wine during a cold night outside…
Synapses firing in the brain…
Tasting that slice of pizza right out of the oven…
Eyes processing the information being called in the by the light provided from many miles away …
Lips meeting that lover thought about, yearned for…
All that resided in another existence. Another world. The world he had lived in before being compelled to experiment with his mind. Driven by more than the science, the chance for magic. The chance to go somewhere no one else had ever visited. Oh, this place couldn’t be put on a search map, this wouldn’t be quantified and be inserted into the system as just another place.
“But aren’t you worried?”
“Who knows what you might access?”
Wyl had been sitting with his friends Renee and Kollan in a near empty restaurant the night before he went on his venture. Most patrons had already cleared out after devouring their meals. He let his friends know he will not be communicating anytime over the next couple days. They responded with skepticism about the method in which he would walk pathways in his mind, the mix of tech, self-invented at that, and chemicals used.
“I think I have a trick to ensure that will not happen. That I’ll be able to call myself back.”
Renee sat back and shifted in her latex pants, picking at whatever was left of her tofu and curry. Kollan swirled the scotch in his glass. They both seemed alarmed and interested, if only at the moment. The moment that keeps appearing, then vanishing. One of the few sights Wyl could still see.
“But you think you’ll really – what now?” Renee said.
“Find a part of the brain that might strengthen me, open up something. Or…?” His voice trailed away. Words unspoken. Though perhaps simply not remembered.
“Or what?” Kollan said, sitting back in his appraising manner, as if gauging the right texture to use with his sculpture.
“Or gain access to…somewhere else. Being able to shift locale merely by mind. Visit other worlds.”
“And even if you do this amazing feat, can’t you … get trapped?”
An answer came. He had an answer. THE answer. The answer to tether him to reality like an astronaut doing work outside the space station. Except gone now. Wyl went through a part of his mind, one that may be accessible anywhere. A spot that opened up into different worlds, far away, so far away, almost unrecognizable. Stopping time, enabled to interrupt the flow of the universe. Except, there was a world, a world in the many places he ventured …
That did not want him there.
And Wyl had trapped himself. Sitting now, not being able to move. His sight, his senses, subjugated beneath another realm.
One in which he heard the creatures stirring…
Coming ever and ever closer to him…
They sounded ever so angry…
A former writer and editor for several sports publications, Patrick McEvoy has had stories included in various comic book anthologies such as Emanata, Continental Cryptid, Uncanny Adventures, Indie Comics Quarterly, and GuruKitty’s Once Upon a Time and Gateway to Beyond. Illustrated stories have also appeared on Slippery Elm’s website, Murder Park After Dark Vol. 3 and in New Plains Review. A short story has also appeared on Akashic Books’ website. In addition, short plays he wrote were chosen to be performed at the Players Theatre in New York as part of their various festivals (Sex, NYC and BOO) in 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 and 2019. And he wrote and directed short plays for Emerging Artists Theatre’s New Works series in 2021 and 2022. A play anthology called What May Arise was also streamed June 30-July 6th 2022 as part of the Rogue Theater Festival. He also wrote and directed Directions, which appeared in the 2022 Dream Up Festival. Photography has also been exhibited with the Greenpoint Gallery, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, Molecule, riverSedge and Good Works Review.