Climbing (A Slightly Older Fiction Story I Wrote)

             It wasn’t anything extraordinary or noteworthy, this average Saturday on a weekend. The skies were gray and it wasn’t all that calm as winds blew through in occasional gusts that left all of life uneasy. Here there and everywhere this lonely life was looking for the awe-inspiring and meaningful, seeking some kind of adventure from the mundane with each distance crossed.

              From place to place and face to face he went, searching and listening to old stories told to him both by the people and various items discovered. He’d see, then meet, then learn. Every home and table held a new tale to be revealed in this journey for something better. The yard sales slowly transformed the uninspired leading this broken soul to a moment that would change everything!

               Among the tales told of memories and use of each object to be sold it stood out. It was old and cheap, something most might have missed; he wasn’t most though. The miraculous wasn’t known here and the value placed on it betrayed this in it’s selling of only a penny. This strange thing. This strange calling that spoke out, waiting for the right time and individual to partner with it and take the adventure that would never be forgotten. Here in the everyday something caught the eye of this willing soul, and it was sold: this unique paint brush; it was here he’d soon realize just how unique this once colorful brush truly was.

               Upon entering it's new home, it was looked over and cleaned up. As the years of neglect were washed away it’s color and odd markings were clearly seen. Noticing this the man began to attempt to read the strange markings and became easily overwhelmed in each attempt. A smart man, he tried again and again, yet the artist within him was more prevalent as he abandoned the failed attempts at being able to decipher it’s meaning and simply surrendered to the conclusion it would never be known.

              Turning his attention to it’s use it was given a purpose as colors and a canvas were brought out and prepared; here is where the unimagined began. Upon the void of white color was spread and a glow with it. It was a dim glow at first and began to shine brighter with every application of color spread! Soon a door started to appear…to the amazement of the painter! Frozen in a state of awe and fear he paused to behold this wonder. Looking it over he was suddenly overcome by a sense of curiosity and nervously reached out a hand through the strange portal, then back again. At once the painter began to paint a full-size canvas nearby him, overcome now by the curiousity of this brushes full potential. As the door became larger he looked in amazement at the new experience offering an invitation that beckoned him to enter this journey of the unknown awaiting him. Longing for new and exciting he stepped through the life-size void as something highly unexpected suddenly surrounded him.

            Looking around at this strange sight everything was becoming clear, a familiar room was soon recognized as the new event unfolding before him wasnt. Pillow though tough (at least for undefined feet), and they still tried to make it, up and over the heights of blankets and pillows (who knew such a place would make the perfect spot for such a time and event as this?).

              Some would have screamed. Others would be left to wonder. He, however, did a bit of both at this strange discovery: animals playing tag that is. They were lively. They were active. They were actually very fun to watch (after he got over the initial shock of such a bizarre experience)! Where they learned to play this game he don’t know, but they seemed to know it well, to enjoy it fully.

              They couldn't bite him, so he shouldn't have been that afraid, yet to see the lifeless full of.....well life is alarming to say the least. It took some time to work past the shock (especially when they noticed him and froze for a moment), somehow he did though. “Stuffed animals don't play tag!”, he thought. “They don't even talk, walk, or have a "normal" conversation with you!”, continued the thoughts as he witnessed the events in full effect. These did though (with him anyway)!

             They were climbing up the "hill" of blankets raised by a pillow beneath as he watched. One was trying to "get" the other, and the other was simply trying to get away. They were relatively fast for stuffed animals too! Apparently this was done a lot when he was gone (from what they told him later, a revelation that again unnerved him a bit), and this time they were caught up in the whole thing and lost track of time.

             They were "climbing up the 'hill ' " and so was he, trying to figure out what to make of it all. Wondering how he was to even respond to it all. “Climbing" this lofty concept. "How did it happen? Why did he get these...."magical" stuffed animals?" the questions kept coming. He racked his brain over and over, walked down every hallway of his memories for anything that seemed out of place, and nothing was answered. Eventually he resolved to accept it, it was all he could do. It was happening: the unexplained life of the lifeless thrown playfully laughing in my face; the endless fun from it that was obvious. Laughter mingled with back and forth banter heard as he watched and laughed at the hilarious game unfolding and the ways it was played. After twenty minutes of nearly suffocating laughter at the funniest game of tag ever the child in him just joined in. "Tag!" he cried as he touched the brown stuffed bear nearest him when he saw the open invitation to join in. Surprised at first, he quickly embraced the change and laughed, running after others near him where the bizarre became welcomed and refreshing. All at once it changed and vanished before his eyes. He looked around him, stunned.

              In a nearby room a loud alarm went off, one on a night stand he apparently forgot to turn off. It was then as he stood up from a couch, where he had somehow fall asleep and a mysterious glow was brightly shining nearby. Climbing up this mysterious mountain of events and questions he followed the blue light. Upon approaching it he saw it was the new paint brush with the unknown markings now glowing and clearly displaying a message: dream. Still puzzled, "climbing" in his mind this strange event, he then saw a ring on the canvas starting to glow. He was intrigued. He was afraid. He was climbing the mountain of strange and unsettling to learn more about what happened, and whether to use the brush again.

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