He awoke in a bed of water, gently bobbing up and down, the liquid barely disturbed by the faint morning breeze. The sun’s first rays showered their greetings upon his back, the pleasurable warmth seeping into his core. At that moment, the creature felt like he could stay there forever and everything would be perfect. He had not a single thought in his head but something more profound at the center of his being.

Life is great.

‘But we need to keep on living.’

A voice spoke, and he agreed with a light sigh. The creature opened its eyes groggily, overcoming a feeling akin to the aftermath of a night filled with bad decisions. He didn’t really want to wake, but he felt an ingrained desire so great it overcame his natural inclination of laziness.

But what to ask?

Looking around, he found himself beside a goose he found attractive for reasons beyond explanation. Odd, but he didn’t really want to question that. His environment was an idyllic glade, trees on the sides that would provide shade in the afternoon sun but also allowed the morning glow to sneak through. It felt like it could be home.

Where am I?

He asked himself while swimming towards the shore. As he started waddling up the bank, he could see fields, some golden, some green. Small outcroppings of trees and bushes interspersed the surroundings.

Definitely farmland, but what was he doing here then? He’d have to have a reason, right?

He bent his long neck to look at the rest of his person. On his chest, there was a bronze coloured ornament with a centrepiece of shifting blue and green. A medal. Bending down, he saw a bag with… things inside of it. He’d be more descriptive, but they honestly didn’t make much sense.

A goose feather, some fox fur, shotgun pellets, and… ash? All slightly wet as the bag must’ve been contaminated with water. The bag was zip tied to a golden band on his leg and the band…

“A husband!?” Greg thought, then looked at his body suspiciously.

It appears… I’m a goose. His eyes slowly travelled to the now understandably attractive lady floating in the dugout.

She’s a goose… Greg’s mind did the calculations, the conclusion becoming more and more clear with each piece of evidence.

“We woke up TOGETHER” The bird crashed into the water, slamming down beside his wife and disturbing the peaceful pond.

“I’M SO SORRY I FORGOT YOU MY DEAREST-”

Uhhhhh.

It was then that Greg realized he had truly fucked up. Somehow he must have gotten so intoxicated that he managed to forget his wife’s name. Fear encroached on the bird’s heart. He couldn’t lose his wife so soon after realizing he had one! In that split second of thought, Greg put out his best gambit. The all-in.

“LINDA!” He continued, missing many beats.

It didn’t seem to matter as the only response he received were many angry, incoherent honks. Waking up to a twenty five pound bird slamming into you likely wasn’t a pleasant way to begin the morning.

With outward remorse and much internal relief that she didn’t notice the slipup, Greg swam back to the shore to leave calmer heads to prevail.

He also wanted to think… there was something... a feeling. He couldn’t quite place it in his mind but the bird felt like he needed to move.

‘There’s something we need to do.’

“Yes.” He nodded. But neither knew exactly what. It would be generous to call yesterday a blur, all Greg could latch onto was a vague feeling of anger, despair, and determination. The bag, the medal. It called to him. There was something there… evidence of his past.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Why was he here? Why this farmland? The dugout. More and more, it felt important. The bird began to shake. He slammed his eyes shut.

Think. Think. THIN-

-His ears rang, and his vision blurred. The only thing he felt was the heat of fire. The burning in his side. As his world shook and the bombs crashed, a scream that sounded distant broke out over the deafening noises.

“GREG!” A wing flipped his body. “WE NEED TO KEEP MOVING!”

Greg looked up and saw his comrade Ryan sprinting to the fallback lines. All across the frigid desert were geese waddling with all their might. Greg shifted his body but found his left leg useless. He hopped and crawled after his retreating comrades getting himself over the top of a sand dune.

Catching sight of Ryan diving into a hole in the sand near the bottom. Greg rolled down the slope in his direction. Toppling over the edge, he heard a surprised but relieved honk.

“Greg.” Katie, the squad leader, acknowledged him. “Didn’t expect to see you alive again.” She eyed his wounds. “This’ll probably be the last time, though.” They all let out a dark honkle. She looked up at the green and blue sky tinted with red. Aurora mixed with the fires of war. “But what a beautiful night to die.”

Greg coughed up a bit of blood. “For me? Yes.” He eyed the last two of his friends left. “You two still have a chance, though.” He hobbled to the mounted peckgun peeking over the edge of the foxhole. His friends didn’t want to leave him, but Greg knew he was done for.

“Fall back to the forest, regroup. I’m sure others will get out.” He locked eyes with his oldest friend. “Funny, Ryan. Never thought I’d die in a...”” Greg’s eyes widened in fear.

Foxhole.

“IT’S A TRAP!”

The orange menaces fell from the sky, Greg fired the peckgun, but they came so fast. Katie went down in a blur of orange. Ryan, he couldn’t see. Greg kept firing at the sky till he felt tremors. Paws scratched at his feet, beneath him, the snarling creatures rose from the dirt. Gnashing! Biting! His wing slowly tore off his shoulder and--

-Greg fell to the ground crying at the vivid memories he imagined for himself.

“Why did our command have foxholes in the fallback line! WHY!” For a time, Greg just lay there, understanding the hangover from yesterday, knowing why he must’ve drunk himself to oblivion.

“All dead…Katie... Ryan” The bird was spirling in a well of depression.

“!” A honk sounded off behind him.

“Linda.” Greg felt lost. “I forgot about them.” He turned to her, remembering his prior shame. “I forgot about you too.” Tears dripped from his eyes.

“?” She honked and tilted her head.

“It was too much, I think” He imagined the sands turning to glass and cutting his skin. “Coming back from that...” He shuddered. “I don’t think I’m the same person anymore.”

She stared at him with the patented, uncaring goose eyes, but Linda was likely roiling with emotions beneath that mask.

“It’s just… what do I do now?” He looked at her soulfully.

“?” She tilted her head even more, then bent down to chew on the grass. Greg watched her with amusement.

“That simple, huh?” He looked around the small glade. “Eat and live.” He let out a sound. “Problem is I still feel restless. I need something more after....” He shook his head, not wanting to think up more tragedies he must’ve lived through.

“I had a goal. A reason to come here… I just”” The bird looked around at the farmland, the crops sprouting up. Greg slowly came to understand the task he had set out for himself.

He walked over to Linda and gave her a nuzzle.

“It’s good farmland here.”

“?” She quietly honked.

“Just a thought.”