The reality of his situation was undeniable. Clyde’s condition had worsened considerably over the past six weeks and his doctor suggested that Clyde get his ducks in a row while he was still able.
Speaking about ducks, Clyde loved spending his mornings sitting by the pond watching the ducks, geese, seagulls, and swans frolic. He always brought breadcrumbs and enjoyed watching the water fowl go after his tossed offerings. He’d be damned if he was going to let a little thing like a terminal disease take that away from him.
Having exhausted his supply of breadcrumbs, Clyde rose up off the bench and started to walk back toward his home a few blocks from the pond. Unfortunately, as he left the pond area, he began experiencing yet another visual aura, but much more intense than the auras he’d been getting over the past few weeks.
He quickened his pace, hoping to make it home before the aura spread from the edges of his vision, but it was not to be. The aura increased so rapidly that Clyde felt as if he was stepping into it, which exactly what he was doing.
Clyde felt himself pass through what seemed to be some sort of portal. The park, the pond, and the ducks, geese, and swans were gone. He was surrounded on all sides by a gray mist, and with nothing solid under his feet, he experienced the sensation of floating.
As he was starting to panic, Clyde heard a voice that seemed to be surrounding him. “Relax, Clyde,” the voice said. “Just go with the flow.”
“Who are you and where am I?” Clyde asked.
“I am you,” the voice said. “And we’re snug in your bed at the hospice.”
“My bed? A hospice?” Clyde said. “No, I was just at the park feeding the ducks and geese,” he insisted.
“Only inside your head,” the voice spoke. “You’ve been in a coma for a couple of weeks and, in your mind, you’ve been spending your days at the pond because it gives you peace. But now it’s time to go.”
“Time to go where?” Clyde asked. “Heaven? Hell?”
The voice chuckled. “You know you don’t believe in heaven and hell, Clyde. So why would you ask me that?”
“Well,” Clyde reasoned, “You said I’ve been in a coma but that it’s time to go. So where are we going?”
“The same place you were before you were born,” the voice answered. “You’re going to the Nowhere.”
“The Nowhere?” Clyde asked. “If I did believe in an afterlife, would we be going there?”
“No, Clyde,” the voice answered. “Everyone goes to the Nowhere when they die.”
“But what’s in the Nowhere?”
“Absolutely nothing,” answered the voice.
Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt. We are asked to write a tale about a journey through a portal to a new land. “It could be a fairy world, some magical place, an upside down world, a place of natural wonder.” Image credit: PSA2009 at pxlyes.com.