“I should have packed more snacks.” I berated myself for thinking that a couple of granola bars would be enough for what was turning into a six hour hike.
I told you that wasn’t going to be enough, you shouldn’t have eaten them until you actually found the thing. Or at the very least until you decided to give up and go home.
“And yet here I am, nothing but half a bottle of water and no meteorite.” Trying to search for a possible crash site was basically impossible when you had no idea what you were doing.
I looked around at what could only be described as a typical North American forest. The trees were a mix of tall oaks, spruces, and ash trees, they provided a reasonable cover from the oppressive afternoon sun. The few rays of shining golden light were harsh and made it difficult to see the blue sky that was scattered with puffy white clouds. Leaves finally started to turn yellow as the end of Summer began, as they finished the job they set out to do. Listening to the faint sounds of animals scurrying in the distance and birds singing their songs. I gazed back at my tracks along the winding path, scattered with freshly fallen leaves. Seeing the beauty in the simplicity of nature running through the motion of the seasons. Before reality crashed back, like a punch to the gut.
Why don’t you just go back, someone probably already found the thing. You know, someone who is actually smart enough to properly sketch out a reasonable search area, mark an efficient grid, and maybe even have some friends to help them look for it. I mean, how do you even know that the reported explosion was a meteorite could have just been kids fucking around in the woods. God knows why you want a meteorite in the first place. Plus even if it was a meteorite crash, what makes you think that you could find it, you are more likely to get struck by lightning out here.
“I get it, I was never going to find the damn thing anyway. And you chastising me over it isn’t helping in the slightest! What?” I whirled around at the crack of a twig right behind me. To see a small group of hikers, one of the few that ever walked the trail I’d been using as a marker, trying their best to get past the crazy guy with minimum stares. So instead of doing the socially acceptable thing and apologizing or coming up with some excuse, I buried my head in my map to hide from the embarrassment and any questions that may have crept up.
Dumbass. Instead of talking to yourself you should be leaving, no point in suffering more than you already have.
I scanned my horizon, it looked much smaller on a map, the meteor shower last week was apparently one of the most beautiful sights in decades. There were even reports of several meteorite crashes since the night of the shower. Usually only about one meteorite was found a year, so several in the last week meant that the chances were higher than ever. That plus the reports of an explosion in the area that got attributed to kids messing around with fireworks was just enough evidence for me to go out looking.
Unfortunately, it seemed that a search area as vast as mine combined with my total lack of experience hiking meant that finding one would be less than unlikely. So with an indignant sigh I decided to check the last box off my grid, not because I thought I was going to find something. But because it was a single out of place square on my map and it was on the way back to the beginning of the trail anyway.
You need to work on that, why waste the time and effort to check off a box on a map you are probably going to throw out. It's going to get dark in a few hours, and you don’t want to be out here when you can’t see twenty feet ahead of you. You have literally no sense of direction.
“It will take ten minutes, and I have a flashlight and compass…I also have to stop talking to myself.” So I set off, looking for any obvious signs of a crash site. Trying to stop the intrusive thoughts, and not idiotically responding to them. So with barely half a mind paying attention to my surroundings, I tripped and fell.
Tumbling through broken sticks and overturned top soil, I landed in a strangely teardrop shaped divot. With only a few minor profanities and a scraped arm, I got up to accuse the terrain for working against me.
It's kind of surprising someone can have not a single redeeming trait about them.
“That was hurtful even for you, I mean unless I’m both blind and dumb…”
Your vision is terrible and you are stupid.
“...anyway, I did just find what can only be the crash site. A.k.a. My own personal meteorite.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
As I said both blind and dumb, most meteorites don’t create massive craters like this. And if they did, they would leave molten rock on the surface of the crater, not dirt.
“That is true, but what left a huge hole like this? Plus this was also in one of the places that a meteorite was supposed to land, this just happens to be a coincidence?”
Yah, you’ve been walking through the forest, there are divots and sinkholes all over the place. It happens, just because you want to find a meteorite doesn’t mean that you're going to find one, and the more likely reason is that you suck and your search area is totally off.
“Alright so what about that strange patch of moss that's growing up to that tree.”
Strange patch of moss?
“Yah see it’s kinda teal and it grows in a straight line up the hill.” Taking a closer look at the out of place moss, it was pretty easy to miss as although it was teal, most of the fungus looked dead or dying. The mycelium-like structure of the strange species seemed to glow, it flowed through the grooves of the roots of a nearby tree with reckless abandon. With a small patch trying to climb the ash tree itself, clinging for dear life. It was strangely pitiful, like an injured animal crawling to its den.
What the hell is that, do you know of any teal fungus that grows around here?
“Oh yah, let me just grab my North American fungus catalog and give it a quick look’n up.”
Shut up and see if you have service.
“Fine. The only one that I could find barely even looks like this, the ‘Green Elfcup’, it also is supposed to be on dead oak trees, not live ash trees.”
Okay, well either it is the ‘Green Elfcup’ and like I said before you're blind, or you suck at using a simple search engine.
“Fine, let me do a reverse image search.” Before I could pull up my camera, the weird vein-like creature seemed to find whatever it was looking for. Whether it was a crack in the bark or it was just able to absorb enough nutrients it started to bloom. A strange bulb sprouted, although it looked more like a bubble of air beneath a layer of skin. The bulb pulsed with a yellow glow and bloomed, eight rounded petals and a small puffy pistil in the center created a mixture of something between a yellow Dahlia and a Dandelion.
Hey John, focus up man. What are you doing?
The flower was simple in design, the eight petals were a sickly yellow, and the white puff in its center was droopy. It was the last resort of a plant that like every other creature on the planet sought to pass on its genes before it died. It wanted to live, but it knew its time was up. With my last thoughts being on the cruelty of reality and the fickleness of life as a whole, I decided to leave the strange plant to live out its last moments in peace.
God dammit, why aren’t you listening. Stop looking at the fucking flower.
However the flower was strangely hypnotizing, on closer inspection the flower wasn't dying. It was sick, like it wasn’t where it belonged, all it could do was struggle to make the best of its current situation. I couldn’t help but empathize with the little creature, it too was looking for a place in this world. It didn’t want to hurt the tree it was attached to, but it had to, it would do its best to make up for the harm it caused. But it needed the tree, although there were other sources of nutrients in this forest. Other fungi or trees, birds in the leaves, or even animals on the ground.
John, pay attention, FOCUS.
The flower was strangely all encompassing, like there was a void in my mind that sought to be filled. All I could see was the flower and the tree. I inched ever closer to the little blossom, the color and texture became so clear, it was like I could see every fiber so naturally stitched together, while the tree grew further and further into the sky. It sought what all beings seek to search for life, purpose, meaning. Yet it was quiet; the sound of the forest was like a dull whisper behind me. My thoughts felt more free and unrestrained than they had before, like searching through a sorted file instead of the usual cluster of crumpled and half-formed memories. It was order and freedom like the structure of the flower, it was the possibility to truly grow and seek out all that could be with others that pursued the same goal.
Don’t get any closer!
It was a masterpiece crafted not from clay or stone but living matter, it told its own story. I sought to understand it, creeping ever closer until with every breath the petals danced and soon the flower and I were flowing back and forth in unison. Then with a single touch, the flower’s center puff exploded into a shower of white spores and shining sparks.
Why aren’t you listening, get away from the flower and go.
“Oh shit.” I was finally broken from my trance, but my throat and lungs were burning. I tried to exhale the spores making their way through my respiratory system; in the process I failed to notice the total lack of light. Backstepping into a root of the fungus infested tree to trip and fall back into the hole that the mushroom and I came from.
Being able to orient yourself when rolling down a hill is difficult, doing so while your limbs feel like you haven’t moved in a week is nearly impossible. So in a repeat of earlier events of the day I fell down into the exact same hole, cussing and scratching myself all the way down. Until finally with a loud thump and what I swore was a crack, I came to a stop, sore and not totally aware of where I was. “Ow, that hurt.”
No shit Sherlock, now that you are done playing with plants how about we go home before anything else happens.
“Right, right, just give me a minute to clear my head.” After a quick coughing fit in a vain attempt of expelling the spores still caught in my throat. I realized how sore every single muscle in my body was. My arms felt like lead, my legs were coiled springs, my head spun, and my back was creaking with every breath.
So like an idiot, in what was the pitch black of night I decided to lean back against the forest floor to stretch, and like everything else lately, it decided to stab me in the back. A sharp pain made me jump up in surprise, it wasn’t till the feeling of warm liquid running down my back assured me that I laid down on what was most likely a rusty metal spike.
I told you to leave, what do you do, lay in what is most likely a germ infested, wild animal’s litter box with morons like you littering. Good Job. Now you need a tetanus shot; and a hospital.
Without any attempt at caution I picked myself up in a manner closer to a toddler attempting to stand on its own, than that of a man in his early twenties. With an exhaustion bordering on total bodily shutdown, I fumbled back to the trail, before collapsing on a bench near one of the mile markers. The last things to go through my mind was more self-bereavement and what was hopefully not the sound of a wild animal bounding closer.