Far Afield

The further they drove, the fewer billboards they saw. The hotels and factories turned to homes, the homes turned to farms. The team was practically in a forest when they came across Company Town. The arch they passed under boldly implored, 'Go West.'

Becky gripped the steering wheel as a chill ran down her spine. The air was unusually cold for a summer morning, the grass was thick with dew. As she turned the corner, something caught the corner of her eye. "Jesus fucking christ", she exclaimed.

Standing on the manicured lawn in front of the city hall, stood a small child in oversized clothing. As she looked closer, she couldn’t help but think this boy had an incredibly familiar face.

His little face was raised up to the beautiful building like a question, and he was still, rooted right in front of the marble steps- until (with a hope she had promised to never visit again) whispered a name to him.

"Sofia". A shiver ran down her spine as she pronounced that name. "Take a left at the painting of the hairless cat and walk all the way to the end of the hall. There you will find her, in all her beauty, and she will have an answer to your question."

The cats eyes followed her as she walked down the hall, filling her suddenly with a sense of existential dread. As she got closer, it felt as though her legs grew heavier and heavier as if they were warning her. But she wanted an answer. She needed an answer.

The doorknob creaked loudly and the cat hissed as she opened the door. Inside, a musty bedroom, lit by flickering candlelight. As she inched closer, the candle grew bigger and brighter, until it consumed her, just as her search did. Only the cat survived.