I was wandering through the bustling streets of my city, the midday sun casting a warm golden hue over the urban landscape, a pleasant warmth filling the air.
Summer was in full swing, and the air was rich with the scent of fresh pavement, blooming flowers, and the distant hum of city life.
It was one of those rare, peaceful afternoons where everything felt perfectly in place.
People moved with ease, their steps light, conversations flowing in soft murmurs as they crossed the street or grabbed a drink from a nearby café.
After finishing a long-ass, boring course in thermodynamics, I was anything but in a hurry back home.
I took my time, taking a long, unhurried, sip from a sleek, metallic can of neon green and black energy drink I'd picked up earlier. The vibrant color screamed attention. It was exactly what I needed after a long morning of boredom.
The taste fizzed against my tongue, a mix of ginseng and something I couldn’t quite recognize without checking the ingredients—but it worked nonetheless.
My body felt more alive with every sip, the surge of energy keeping me alert as I scrolled lazily through my phone, glancing at memes and whatever nonsense would pop up on my feed.
My thumb moved mechanically across the screen, blitzing through social media with little interest.
The usual garbage—vacation photos, bad jokes, and the not-so-occasional influencer, shedding her clothes in exaggerated poses, desperately trying to provoke reactions. Their attempts to get noticed were so transparent, so painfully obvious—which worked against their goals.
As if…
I took another sip, shaking my head, "God, what a joke!" Only to resume the scrolling process in a robotic manner... "Maybe I am the problem, lol..."
As I flicked past the usual flood of posts, something caught my eye: a video thumbnail of a guy, dressed in what looked like nothing more than a tank top and cargo shorts, standing in the middle of a vast, desolate desert.
The caption?
"What could possibly go wrong?"
I tapped the video, intrigued, and the screen flickered to life.
The man in the desert grinned broadly as he poured gasoline onto the dry sand.
His antics were clearly meant to impress, but the absurdity of it all made me pause.
The man pulled out a lighter, a gesture that gained a “Don’t...” from yours truly.
But the guy didn’t listen.
With a grin, he dropped the blaze.
The gasoline ignited instantly, but instead of the controlled burst of flame he was hoping for, the fire exploded in a wild arc, catching the man entirely off guard. In an instant, he was engulfed by an inferno, his wild shouts muffled by the crackling of sparks.
I watched, struggling to suppress the laughter building in my chest. The whole thing was ridiculous—the desperation in the guy’s movements, the sheer absurdity of it all.
"Man... the sense of humor I’ve developed from this shitty social media," I muttered to myself, laughing copiously under my breath. "But, it’s gold."
I couldn’t help but enjoy the imagery: this guy, in his desperate panic, was cosplaying a human tumbleweed, rolling down the desert hill, trying to put out the fire that seemed to just burn hotter with every second.
"Nice," I chuckled to myself, before taking another sip from the drink, continuing the mindless scrolling through the infinite stream of garbage.
It didn’t take long for another gem to appear—a short clip with the caption: "Modern world’s the first to make automatic brakes on cars VS 20 years ago."
I raised an eyebrow.
Intriguing.
As an automotive engineering student, I couldn’t just scroll past that.
So, naturally, I tapped the screen.
The video began with a sleek, modern car smoothly coming to a stop as it detected a pedestrian crossing the street. "Neat," I muttered to myself, sipping once more.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Then, the scene cut to a grainy, clearly older video of a guy, casually sitting in front of a car, screaming. "Ready!"
The driver revved the engine and began accelerating.
It moved at a steady pace, as the man just sat there, arms crossed, waiting.
And sure enough, the car hit him with a dull thud.
My drink nearly escaped through my nostrils as I sputtered out a laugh.
“What an idiot!” I choked, wiping my face with my sleeve, earning a couple of side glances from the pedestrians. I shook my head, my laugh fading into a chuckle as I locked the phone and slid it into my pocket.
"Man, people were built different back then... or just built stupid, lol!"
As I continued down the sidewalk toward the patisserie, my mind wandered to the comforting thought of a fresh cup of coffee. "It's fine, it's fine," I murmured. "I don't have a caffeine problem. I've been consuming multiple caffeine products almost daily for the past 7 years now—if I were to have a problem with it, I'd know by now." It was a ridiculous line I enjoyed spewing out to my girlfriend whenever she worried about my heart's health. She often nagged me about it, but I never took it seriously.
What was she even worried about?
I was fine!...
Still, the thought of coffee lingered as a promise of focus in my otherwise foggy mind. Without enough of it, I'd find myself quite dysfunctional, a sluggish body with clouded thoughts.
"Maybe I’ll text her later," I muttered.
I strolled into the fancy patisserie, its crisp, inviting scent of freshly baked croissants and rich coffee immediately filling the air. The small bell above the door jingled softly as he entered, and the place exuded a warm, welcoming atmosphere, with plush chairs and soft lighting casting a gentle glow on the polished wood counters.
Behind the counter, the old man who worked there was as familiar as the pastries themselves. His silver hair and spectacles made him seem like an eternal fixture of the shop. I greeted him with a simple, "Hi there!"
Without looking up from the dough he was preparing, the man’s voice rose to meet him. “The usual?” he replied, recognizing the noise instantly.
I was about to reply with a typical "Yes, please" when something strange happened—beneath my feet, the floor suddenly shimmered, a glowing circle expanding outward beneath me like a massive, otherworldly portal. I froze mid-sentence, a cold chill running down my spine. My heart skipped a beat as I looked down at the strange, unnatural light.
“Oh no!” I groaned, my voice full of exasperation. “Did I let my guard down? Is Lady Fate interested that much in me?”
It seems like she is trying a little too hard, pushing me through quite a few struggles.
You see, I had already encountered lesser anomalies, such as:
Surviving a midday encounter with a crazed knife-wielding maniac.
"No injuries—on me or pedestrians. Don’t worry!"
He’s been nearly run over by every type of vehicle imaginable, including roller skates.
“Don’t ask…”
He almost drowned saving a 4 year-old who somehow managed to paddle a kayak to the middle of a lake.
“Seriously! How!?”
He’s worried his friends and family with a 33-hour sleep marathon.
“I don’t regret anything!”
And he’s pretty sure that he avoided a UFO abduction, just last week!
“I don’t want my junk harvested, thank you not-so-very-much!”
Back in the patisserie, the scene with me was quite spectacular! My steps quickened, trying to outrun the light, but the circle, almost sentient, matched my pace exactly, gliding after me!
I knew that I was unable to outrun this thing after the first failed dash, so I silently accepted his fate.
I turned back, looking at the counter in defeat, where the owner's eyes met mine...
One last, final sip of that energy drink, savoring the last bit of comfort it offered in this bizarre moment.
Casually, I crumpled the can and lobbed it toward the bin behind the counter. It sailed through the air in a perfect arc, landing with a satisfying clang.
With a demoralized sigh, I returned my focus to the situation at hand, my voice lingering with a mix of frustration and dry humor as the light began to engulf me.
“Well played... GG. I say GG, but it wasn’t really GG...” The gibberish quote hung in the air as I disappeared, leaving the words behind, trailing off like a phantasm.
