| General Fiction posted October 23, 2025 |
  |
A quirky dream if I ever said so...
Bizarro World
by Tom Horonzy
I do not know how it came to me. It did as I slept. It was as if Isaac Azimov was in my head instead of me, and that is bizarre since I do not know if I spelled either of his names correctly. He would, fer sur!
Anyhow, the story took place with a workplace mate. Let's call him Mike, who I had known for thirty years, more or less, I guess. In fact, I think I managed him before he managed me with Liberty Mutual. Neither of us ever worked with an emu, or wore yellow clothing.
He arrived in my mind and invited us to take a ride. Next thing I know, he's piloting a helo over the Blue Ridge mountains, in what I believe was Virginia. After topping a peak, the scene grew weird. A city of skyscrappers, down below, reminded me of the doodahs in Utah, those peaked things that became because rain eroded the sand from between their limestone structures... I was told.
One building stood taller than the others. I was surprised it did not have The Daily Planet on a globe atop of it. There were cars on the ground and in the air, and Mike looked at me with a wry smile. "Surprised?"
Of course, I was, for the view was either from a sci-fi movie (circa 1955), the year my sister was born, or the year 2525 by Zager and Evans (1969). He alit the chopper atop a neighboring mount where we hopped out and into a funky-looking Tesla to race down a ski slope ramp. I inhaled at the thrill, as we flew through the air like one of those skiers, landing with a plop, swerving as skiers do to a stop, right before the door of the previously described building.
Inside, we rode a fast glass elevator through some low-hanging cumulus clouds to the top floor where a waiter met us as we disembarked, leading us to park our duffs on a plush divan while offering a strange haze-purple concoction with an eye staring at us. I passed. Mikey sucked it down like it was a bowl of Life cereal.
People of every color and size passed to and fro grinning similar smiles, while wearing Apple-like watches on their left wrists, including Mike, but not me. I wore a clunky ten-dollar Timex with Donald Duck on its dial.
A hostess arrived, leading my host away, while leaving me bare-chested somehow. I hadn't noticed it before, as I wore a shirt when I left home. Was it lost on the slope or in the elevator car? I felt out of place. Then, 'a lady in red' sat beside me, asking my name, and curling the one hair on my bare chest before pulling it out, stating, "we must be neat." I leered at her as she stood and left.
Next, a security guard asked where my name tag was. "Are you kidding..? It's here on my waistband."
Anyhow, I came to find out Mike wanted me to join his team of renowned salesmen (all genders included). I simply rejected his plea, saying, "I had paid my dues before retiring in '06," and that is when the missus shook me awake inquiring, like "inquiring minds" do, why I was profusely sweating... and "where did your curly-que hair go, mister?"
I shrugged and replied, "I haven't a clue," but I guessed I left it with the dame in Bizarro World.
Write a mystery story contest entry
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2025. Tom Horonzy All rights reserved.
Tom Horonzy has granted FanStory, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
