Another photo-prompt, another story. This one loosely based on fact. I did get stuck in quicksand at a wishing well. I did make a wish. My audience did not appear. I did get free. I did not save my shoes.
I have this little personality flaw. I always take the road less travelled. Sometimes, this is a good, sometimes it gets me into far too much trouble to be worth it.
Oh, it looks innocuous enough – a tunnel of green, light shining through the canopy above, the sweet scent of moss and growing things. What could possibly be wrong with this picture of serene peace?
I’ll tell you. That gentle pathway, that soft, leaf-strewn ground, isn’t ground at all. It’s bloody quicksand.
How do I know this? Because this may be the last picture I ever take. Right this moment, I’m standing knee-deep in sucking, stinking goo narrating my what might be my last words to the empty air. The slurping sound of the hungry earth joined a melody of ringing laughter from the trees above. I think they’re leaning even closer to watch my slow descent into the maw of the monster.
Bloody hell. The thing is this. I’m close enough to remove my feet from my boots and land back on my ass on solid ground. But… But… I love these boots. They’re Hunters wellies and they cost a small fortune and I’m damned if I’ll leave them here in a muddy grave. I’d rather go down with them then have to resume my walk, shoeless and humiliated.
Also, I’m wearing odd socks – so there’s that to consider too. And the fact, that I need help to get out of them on a good day. One when I’m not sinking slowly into oblivion.
Oh great. Someone’s coming. A blessing and a curse. They might get me out this sticky predicament, but they’ll also get a story to dine out on for all eternity at my expense. Not my proudest moment.
I am not in a good place. Not physically. Not mentally. Not spiritually.
Hang on a mo. Spiritually…
It’s worth a shot.
Please, please, please any greater power. Please, save me from certain death and laughter. Please, before someone sees me! Please…. And please save my boots too.
Crack! Oh, what now? An avalanche? A crater opening to swallow me whole. What else could possible go wrong. A tidal wave of ooze, that’s what. Now, I stand here covered in mud from head to toe resembling a golem.
I can’t anymore. I’m just going to sit down and make my imminent demise a little faster. Put an end to my misery and all that.
Ouch! Squelch. Surely, quicksand isn’t supposed to break a person’s coccyx. No. No, it definitely isn’t. Oh hallelujah! My butt is on solid ground and my rapid fall from grace seems to have loosened the muddy monster’s grip on my feet too. Now, I sit ignominiously covered in mud, feet in the air and grinning like a loon.
But, the sound of my approaching audience is tapering off. I think they’ve turned around.
Now, if I could just get a shower I might make it out of here with my ego intact.
Too much to hope for?
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