So, Tom turns left at the puppy.

     So, they turned left at the puppy

     turn left at the puppy. The puppy is me. Do you get it? Let’s adventure.

     Tom shook his head and reread the inscription. He ran his hand through his hair, hoping to scratch sense into his brain, “Onward, I suppose.”

     Tom and Lucinda turned left heading east back toward the grocery store. Tom stopped short as they passed the ice cream shop. He walked in and ordered, “Could I please have one scoop of blue moon ice cream and a baby cone of vanilla for Christopher.”

     “So, that is a single scoop of blue moon, and a baby cone for, umm, Christopher?” the clerk sadly asked.

     “Yes, please. Christopher loves—loved—oh, um. I guess just a single scoop for me,” Tom hung his head.

     “What happened to the girl he saved?” the clerk asked.

     Tom’s sad smile shifted, “She is doing really well. We are going to be in fourth grade next year. She comes to my house to play sometimes. She is really happy that Christopher could help. I am sad, but happy. Sadhappy. Do you think that’s okay?”

     “I think you can feel whatever you feel. You are a good friend. She is lucky you and Christopher were playing near the stream that day,” the clerk smiled as she prepared his ice cream.

     “Yeah, she is real lucky. Christopher is not as lucky,” Tom’s breath caught. “But, he is in my heart. And that is good right?”

     The clerk smiled as she gave him his ice cream, “Very good. Good luck, Tom. Have a better day.”

     Tom left the ice cream shop and walked along the outskirts of the city. He followed the dirt roads to where the town snuggled up to the forest. Tom and Lucinda took in the natural beauty around them.

     “Where shall we go from here?” Lucinda asked Tom.

     “Well, some days I like to follow the stream, but I don’t go past the dam. Or, I go up the foothills and play in the caves. Where do you want to go?”

TOM AND LUCINDA GO TO THE CAVES

TOM AND LUCINDA FOLLOW THE STREAM

So, Tom turns right at the puppy.

     So, Tom turns right at the puppy.

     turn right at the puppy. The puppy is me. Do you get it? Let’s adventure.

     Tom shook his head and reread the inscription. He ran his hand through his hair, hoping to scratch sense into his brain, “Onward, I suppose.”

     After some time, Tom turned to Lucinda, “Where are we going?”

     “I don’t know,” she blushed. “But, I know it is somewhere good.”

     Tom ambled west toward the place where grass and woods melded into a no-human’s land. His breath caught as he paused on the threshold of the deep woods. Wiping at his eyes, he let out his breath.

     “He-he would always stop and sit right there. Like he was asking permission to cross,” Tom whispered.

     “Whom?” Lucinda tilted her head to the side, and sat on Tom’s shoulder.

     “Christopher. He would wait until I said, ‘Go get ‘em.’ Then, he ran around the woods trying to do everything at once. He would check on me every 60 seconds. You could set a clock by him.” 

     “Where did you two adventure?”

     “Some days we walked through the foothills up there and played pirates in the caves. Christopher loved looking for buried treasure. Other days, we followed this stream and played lava monsters in the mud. Mom didn’t like those days. But, those were Christopher’s favorite.”

     “So, where do you think Christopher in Bronze wants us to go?”

TOM AND LUCINDA GO TO THE CAVES

TOM AND LUCINDA FOLLOW THE STREAM

So, Tom follows Lucinda.

     So, Tom follows Lucinda.

     Tom and Lucinda weaved through the afternoon meandering this way, hopping that way. They traced a route back through towards the town square. The festivities celebrating his dog’s life dwindled to the last of the humans who were not really sure why they were there, but came for the watermelon spitting contest and fair games.

     Lucinda led him towards the statue of “Christopher in Bronze.” She snapped her fingers and script burned into his marble base.

     Hey, Human! You found it! There is a place I want to show you. To get there you must

TURN RIGHT AT THE PUPPY

TURN LEFT AT THE PUPPY

So, Tom thinks he's dreaming

     So, Tom thinks he is dreaming.

     This isn’t some Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole. Clearly, this is a totally realistic interpretation of every day events. This stuff happens all the time. Reader, go back and follow Lucinda. C’mon, n00b.

     Just kidding, you do what you want. And, you’re not a n00b. You’re a lovely child of the human race. But, really, Lucinda has a much more fun story. Keep reading if you don’t believe me.

     Tom woke up in the middle of the night. Honking horns and iridescent lights blared through his studio apartment. And, he had no recollection of a dog named Christopher, a flying mini human named Lucinda, or the awesome adventures that they had.

The end. (Click here to go back ONE option)

Start over.

So, Tom goes on an adventure.

*We take a break from the regularly scheduled programming entitled: "So, pirate socks are for boys, and princess socks are for girls: a discussion on gender and behavior" to bid adieu to one of Korea's finest gentlemen. Mr. Caprikajajdhfgnica, you will certainly be missed by all.*

About a thousand months ago, I asked for ideas on short stories. And, my friend T has asked me about them every time I have seen him. So, as his going away gift, I decided to not write just a review, but a full on short story. BUT THEN, I decided that that wasn't enough for him. Instead, I wrote my very first Choose Your Own Adventure adventure. Please bear with me. Imma try to not eff up the hyperlinks, but I am sure there will be at least one. 

Tom, you are a hero among humans.

xoxo,

Bots

Take a _______ At The Puppy-- Idea submitted by Anonymous

     “Today is an auspicious day,” Reginald winked at the gathered crowd. “Today is the day we honor our most charitable member of our community. Today is the day we unveil a statue sculpted with such a likeness that our dear Christopher might have thought he was looking at a mirror. With no more pomp and much less circumstance, I give you the piece: Christopher in Bronze.”

     Cheers erupted from all corners of the square. Reginald dabbed at his forehead with his handkerchief before grasping hands with the townspeople. Tom slunk through the legs of the adults with expertise. Soon, he was nose to nose with Christopher in Bronze.

     Patting the sculpture’s head, Tom whispered, “’Atta boy, Christopher. ‘Atta boy.” He kissed Christopher in Bronze’s snout and melted back into the summer’s day scenery. 

     The picnic was in full fledge. He dodged potato salad tables, hot dog grills, and games involving balloons and fish, though uncertain about their connectivity. Tom snatched one piece of watermelon cut exactly in an equilateral triangle, had the rind been a straight line. 

TOM GOES HOME

TOM STAYS AT THE FESTIVAL

So, Tom stays at the festival.

     So, Tom stays at the festival

     “Tom, you’re such a brave boy,” one man said, ruffling Tom’s hair.

      A woman with a powdered face and pointy nails scratched his arm, “Thank you for sharing your dog. I am so sorry.”

     Moriah sidled up next to Tom, and held his hand, “Thank you, Tom. You saved my life. I’m real sorry that Christopher got hurt.”

     “Thanks, Moriah. I am glad that you are okay,” Tom sighed. “I just miss him, you know?”

     “Yeah, I know,” she dropped his hand and scurried away from him.

     Tom walked through the festival not seeing anything. It all blurred into colors and shapes. Tom’s teacher handed him a red slush drink. He took it without realizing and continued walking. He sat down on a bench and watched the festival unfold. His eyes drooped. Snap. He jumped awake to a small floating human hovering just above his nose.

     “Just what do you think you’re doing sleeping at a time like this?” this woman in a green body suit and pink hair chastised him.

     “Um, I don’t know. I was just—it is just so much,” Tom sputtered.

     “My name is Lucinda, and I am going to go on an adventure. Wanna come?” She rested one hand on her hip and pouted.

TOM THINKS HE IS DREAMING.

TOM FOLLOWS LUCINDA.

So, Tom goes home.

     So, Tom goes home.

     He scuttled home climbing fences, jumping ditches, and slithering through bushes. Reaching his backyard, Tom flopped down by the tree where a fresh mound of dirt covered his friend.

     “Hey Christopher, I got you some watermelon,” Tom ripped off a bit of the watermelon, dribbled the juice over the dirt, and pushed the fruit deep into the pile.

     The leaves played a shadow song on the blades of grass. Light and dark tinkled through the air—a visual wind chime. Tom looked up and saw a tiny human-like thing fluttering in time with the music.

     “Hi, I’m Lucinda,” she sang. “Let’s go on an adventure.”

TOM THINKS HE IS DREAMING.

TOM FOLLOWS LUCINDA