The Trip in the Fall: A Short Story
The Trip in
the Fall
By Alexis
Mizell
Entry 1:
October 3, 2015
The fall, I
always thought, is the perfect time for a hike. At least that is what people
say right? It’s been awhile since I tried to be inspirational, but I am trying
here! It is for that reason I am sitting here, beneath the bright peppered sky
of stars that filter light through the trees of the Blue Ridge Mountains and
accompany the moon, bold in the sky, cascading perfectly across this page. I
set off this morning on the trek of a lifetime. Writers block. Being that I
live in Asheville, I’ve conceded to be one of “those” writers, who prays on the
innocence of the wilderness to give me something. Anything. So far what have I
found? A hole in my sock with some blisters forming on my freshly pedicured
heel and a stomach grumbling with want for the mid-evening snack I usually have
on Tuesday night- post Jeopardy. No, no thoughts so far, but I am staying
hopeful that the next Harry Potter will pop into my head now that I am free
from the restraints of social media. I left my phone at home and I am starting
to think it may have been a bad idea rather than the genius plan I concocted
this morning while tossing some camping gear I found hidden in a corner of my
dirty (but well organized!) garage, a bag of clothes, and a stack of MRE’s I
stole from my ex-husbands deployment stash into my equally dirty (but well
organized!)Volkswagen Golf.
I will hike
farther tomorrow and I am promising myself on this paper, right now, that I
will not turn back on this hike until I- A. Run out of food. Or B. Get inspired
to write a semi-interesting storyline.
Entry 2:
October 4, 2015
I’m turning
around. My body itches, I’m petrified of running out of toilet paper, and I
cannot do another night of waking up to the sound of wolves, bears, or whatever
is out here. I am not cut out for this, I know that, I was born in Manhattan
for God sakes! The only reason I am writing at this very moment is for sanity.
I have been walking in circles since I woke up this morning while trying to
figure out which way would take me back to the makeshift parking spot I
cultivated on the side of this mountain range. News flash: my watch reads 1400-
stupid military time.
In my
spontaneity and typical fashion, I did no research. I jumped in the car and
drove to the most remote mountain range within 30 miles, parked, and walked.
How far have I walked? I just want to be home, sulking in a bubble bath while
waiting for a miracle that will send some well thought out novel flying from my
hand to a paper. The rock I am sitting on is so…gross.
Everything
is gross; don’t get me wrong it’s all desolate and untouched and quiet, but
it’s too quiet, too desolate, and too untouched for me. Nature is unresponsive.
It’s alive, but dead. It’s a bore and me? I like a little spice.
I’ve got an
idea! I will start walking and mark down anything that looks familiar, because
there is absolutely no way that my 5’3 frame has trudge me more than a few
miles from my hatchback chariot.
-1513: Really big pine tree- I
think I ate lunch here yesterday.
-1555: Another wet rock…same one I
was on earlier? Lame.
-1643: Weird looking squirrel thing
ran past and made me trip; does he know where my car is?
This whole
writing and remembering thing isn’t working. It’s late; 2052 to be exact.
Still
haven’t found my car yet and I am getting nervous. Lucky for me I smelled smoke
an hour ago and followed the scent. There is a house a bit down from the mountain,
but there is an issue. Of course the only way down is a straight rocky decline
that looks to me like a death trap. My plan is to use a big stick I found to
steady myself on the way and go very, very slow.
I swear,
nature is the worst. Let’s tear it down already to make room for a new mall or
a 5-star hotel or something. Put it all out of its misery. See, I kick this
rock and it does nothing. I pick this flower and it just dies. Nature doesn’t
put up a fight. Nature is weak and I am human. I am better than all of this.
Alright, no
more stalling, I’m going for it.
#
The remains
of 2012 New York Times bestselling author Jessica Cain were found in Asheville
today, October 7th by the local Wilson couple. Reports and evidence
of a journal claim Cain was attempting a hike alone while writing the sequel to
her award winning self-help book Get
Better, Naturally, which was due
to be released in the summer of 2013. Many close to the deceased say that she
had fallen on tough times since her last book, from strife with family to a
pending divorce from her husband and retired Marine, which caused her to derail
from her writing career. The coroner is labeling her death an accident, with many
injuries consisting of those inflicted by a fall from some height, and although
found on the Wilson’s sandy cattle pen, the fall resulted in instant death. One
of the most recognized quotes from Cain’s book reflects upon the impact nature
can have on life and within the written self-reflection, which has often been
speculated by critics to be false, Cain claimed the saving grace to her life
was nature reading, “Nature is either life’s happiest playground, or it’s
saddest sandbox.”
###
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