Breakdown of Reality

               Stepping is perhaps one of the most mundane parts of our existence as human beings. We all do it numerous times in our day to day activities. The fact is that to get from one place to another a person has to travel, and for a lot of the time the only mode of transportation that is truly viable is stepping. We place one foot in front of the other and propel ourselves forward towards our direction. Or we step back or around to avoid something unpleasant. Step forward, step backwards, step left, step right, step up, step down, step around, humanity as a whole has created a sort of verbal dialogue that revolves around the act of moving ones feet. It’s just something that almost all of us do on a daily basis.

               It was however this simple act of stepping that got James Stafford into so much trouble. He stepped when he should side stepped. Of course, he had no idea that he should have side stepped, but that fact was about to become very clear to him.

               James Stafford was a rather ordinary man. He had ordinary vices and ordinary virtues. No one really thought ill of him but then, no one really thought well of him. If you were poll thirty people without a doubt they all would say that their biggest issue with James Stafford was… well that he was just too darn normal.

               He worked a nine to five office job that involved computers. He could tell you what it involved in great details, but honestly you wouldn’t really care. You’d probably stop listening after the first few sentences, hell, you’d probably stop listening after the first few words. He was eternally dedicated to his job, in a fashion that only a truly ordinary person can be, and contributed regularly to his retirement fund. He ate lunch in the break room, bologna and cheese (American of course) sandwich on white bread with a bottle of Snapple ice tea. He didn’t make trouble at work and never really tried to get promoted. He worked late when he needed to and could be counted on to come into the office on the weekend if the need did arise.

               When he left work every day he went straight home. He watched his evening shows on TV, nothing too extreme of course, eating his TV dinner that he cooked in the microwave. He went on a date or two a month, usually with nice girls his friends had set him up with, but they never really seemed to go anywhere.

               All in all Frank was rather… plain. He didn’t search for truth in the darkness or question the light. He never once thought that reality was anything beyond what it appeared to be.

               This is why the single misstep that Frank Stafford took was rather unfortunate for him. There are plenty of people in this world that when faced with what Frank shortly faced would have been delighted, would have enjoyed the possibilities, the wonder, and the magic.

               Frank Stafford was not one of those people.

               So when he took that one step through that small window of possibility and turned the corner to come face to face with a cave troll, it wasn’t a very pleasant sight.

               The cave troll nodded at Frank Stafford, tipping his oversized fedora that he wore on his head. He grinned a big toothy grin with sharp pointy teeth. His large red eyes that were a little too close together seemed genuinely pleased to see Frank. The pleasure in the eyes honestly may have been the most disconcerting part of the event, after all what stranger is possibly happy to see another stranger? The most a normal person does is feign indifference. Obviously this person wasn’t normal, he was way too friendly.

               And he was a cave troll.

               Frank’s brain however hadn’t quite caught up to that fact. It was still mulling over how friendly this man was. Then it moved onto how strange his yellow pinstripe suit was, it just seemed so big. Which lead into Frank realizing how large this man… oh dear Jesus this was a cave troll.

               Frank stopped thinking immediately, stopped being able to think, and just started panicking. He began to breathe really fast and really rapid, his eyes wide with shock. His fists clenched tightly together at his sides. He started sweating.

               The cave troll, Bezulbob, though most just called him Bob, became worried for this funny little man. It wasn’t very often they got humans on this street, and often times they proved to be quite amusing. Full of stories about their world and what not. All the new clothes too, Bob had gotten the idea for his suit from another man a while ago. So, when the funny little man began to hyperventilate in front of him, Bob moved forward in concern, arms outstretched ready to support him.

               Frank Stafford saw the giant cave troll in a yellow pinstripe suit and matching fedora move forward stretching his arms out towards him and it was about all he could take. He turned and ran away. He literally skid around the corner, stepping once more through the small window of possibility which closed this time as he crossed it, and came out on a very familiar street with very familiar people. These people didn’t smile at him as he came skidding around the corner. They merely flashed him looks of indifference.

               Bob on the other hand was quite sad. He didn’t get any ideas for a new suit.