Snippets and Stories: (WtI) Far Fetched (Pt. 1)

"What're you thinking about?"

"Just pointless things." He responded, forcing himself to focus on the screen.

But soon enough his vision slipped and he wasn't seeing the black print anymore.

Sometimes he would wonder about the "regulars" of the Tea Shop.

What even happened, or didn't happen.

The man grimaced, he must be getting sentimental in his old age.

Not that he missed them or anything.

Curiosity if anything.

And.

It was--well, it was a difficult matter to speak of.

Particularly so when there were few words that could encompass the absurdity. Or perhaps words have just failed him, and he, them in turn.

But thinking back to it, it was for that same reason that he had left the Academy.

Few knew that the truth of scientific advancement, was an open mind.

And certainly, it was that imaginative wonder that helped them advance. The foundations of science were but that. Foundations to build upon, or to restructure.

Science was a wonder in and of itself. Not all of it made sense.

But nothing came close to this.

Silas glared over the counter.

A sight he was all too familiar with.

Somehow they always found a way to him.

Towering over the other side was a massive plumed serpent whose pure white and borderline translucent scales gleamed with a pearly iridescence.

"Requiescence is all I would ask of you."

Silas ignored the serpentine creature and took the order of an elderly man who had just walked in.

"Please reconsider."

"..." Silas poured a drizzle of coffee liqueur​ over the swirl of creamy froth.

He passed the disposable coffee cup over the counter, the snake flickering its tongue in piqued curiosity as the graying man thanked him for the drink.

"None of you."

Alone once more, but nonetheless he spoke in low tones.

The great serpent turned, hopeful.

"None of you exist."

Dull green eyes stared up at the crestfallen serpent as it regarded him  through slitted eyes.

"I don't know why you all seek me out so, but I demand that you leave. There is nothing for you here."

I don't want any part of this.

The plumed serpent spread its wings and slithered into its own coils.

When he looked back, it was gone. As if it never was.

None of it was real.

No one else could see the shadows moving, the glinting lights and motes that danced in the window.

"There's nothing there Silas."

Long ago he learned to ignore it all.

A world he felt, heard, and saw, but could never say with certainty whether it was real or not.

Maybe he was insane, but a little insanity is how one stayed sane.

After all, there was just too much in Life.

But what is a little, and what is too much?

Plumed serpents that could talk.

The Barghest that demanded he return a ratty cloth bandanna and bone brooch.

A Book that wrote its own story and was in turn written in as the story was then brought it to life.

Somehow, Silas felt that he had stepped over the nondescript line long before.