He sat down across from me and we started talking. A reciprocal exchange of meaning. I told him of my ailments, one by one. He listened. What struck me was that his facial expression lacked that sense of superiority I had long grown accustomed to. I never blamed others for it. Especially not the lady I lived with. How could I. After all, I was sharing a set of experiences that made no sense, not even to me. But this man was different, with his clandestine appearance. He lifted his arm and pointed towards the door behind me. He spoke slowly, softly, with an intellectual scrutiny that found its way into my soul as it curved around every barrier I had put up.
He told me of a thing I couldn’t find in any dictionary. A thing that would change me, give me back what I had lost. My memories, my life, everything seemed to be within reach. I felt a sudden urgency. He paused for a moment, slowly lifting his arms again. This time to take off his shades. He folded them, neatly setting them on the table in front of him. His eyes were glowing with truth, with evanescent lust for meaning. I saw my world reflected back to me. But there was more. With his eyes exposed, his faced changed, ever so slightly. His features had rearranged themselves, changed in size and position to match those of the man in the parrot suit. Mr. Green. Gone were the lavish colors and the flamboyant suit, replaced by a blackness that wrapped around his figure and existed only to intimidate others. He told me to follow him, except this time, we weren’t going into the jungle.
Let me pause here. I know what you’re thinking. Morphing faces, black suits, how was I so sure this man could be trusted? Or that he was even here to begin with? Well, I wasn’t. At least not with complete certainty. But you see, it did not matter. What he put forth was a sliver of hope. A chance at getting back to whoever I once was. Everything beyond these walls was unknowable. A Schrödinger’s Box, but I was the cat trapped inside. He offered me an escape.
As I got up and approached the door, he held my arm, prompting me to turn back towards him, with his eyes still glowing, he warned me. There was no turning back from this. Nothing would ever be the same. I gently brushed his arm to the side and ventured on into the night.
You are currently traversing the limitless expanses of Visual Fiction. Each narrative fragment in this collection unravels a memory of a man drawn into an alternate reality. With every piece, he steps deeper into the unknown, attempting to describe the indescribable, to paint the unseen, and to make sense of the senseless. These tales offer glimpses into bizarre worlds that can at times feel both intimately familiar and strangely threatening.