MidReal Story
The Enigmatic Parallel: A Surreal Journey
Scenario: Ich ging spazieren
Create my version of this story
Lucas Grey
guide through the surreal world, friend to Emily, tall, silverhaired, enigmatic and wise.
Emily Carter
the walker, solitary with occasional encounters, medium height, dark hair, introspective and curious.
Tara Lin
local of the surreal world, acquaintance of Emily and Lucas, petite, vibrantcolored skin, lively and mischievous.
I went for a walk in the park.
It was a beautiful day, and I wanted to get out of the house.
I walked along the path, enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air.
The park was almost empty, which was unusual for a Saturday afternoon, but I didn’t mind.
I liked the peace and quiet.
I liked being alone with my thoughts.
I liked being alone, period.
I’d always been a solitary person, even as a child.
My parents used to worry about me because I had so few friends, but I didn’t see what the big deal was.
I was happy on my own.
I didn’t need other people to entertain me or keep me company.
In fact, I often found other people annoying and exhausting, which was why I avoided them whenever possible.
I just preferred to be alone most of the time.
I was content in my own company, and I wasn’t afraid of being by myself.
I was an only child, so I grew up used to having whole days to myself, and I’d learned to entertain myself without anyone else’s help.
I’d never been one of those people who needed to be surrounded by others at all times.
In fact, I found it exhausting, which was why I’d never been able to understand the appeal of team sports or group work.
There was nothing wrong with liking those things, of course, and I understood why other people did.
I just wasn’t one of them.
I preferred to go for a walk, or read a book, or work on a puzzle—preferably one with at least a thousand pieces—because I enjoyed the challenge of figuring it out on my own.
On this particular afternoon, I was in the mood for a walk.
It was summer, and the weather was perfect: not too hot, not too cold, with just enough sunshine to make me want to go outside and do something.
The park was just a short walk from my house, so I decided to go there and take advantage of the nice weather.
I walked along the path that wound its way through the park, enjoying the feel of the sun on my skin and the light breeze on my face.
I felt free and relaxed, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t have anything on my mind.
Or at least, I didn’t until I saw the man in the suit walking a dog down the path in front of me.
The dog caught my attention right away because it didn’t look like any dog I’d ever seen before.
It wasn’t like any dog I’d ever seen before, either.
It looked like a tiny little rat, except that it had a tail instead of a long scaly one.
Or maybe it was a rat after all, and the man was actually a giant?
No, that was ridiculous.
The man looked perfectly normal to me—tall and thin, with dark hair and pale skin—so there was no reason to think that he was a giant in disguise.
That left me with only one logical explanation: it was a dog that had somehow shrunk to the size of a rat.
That seemed far-fetched as well, but it was the best explanation I could come up with under the circumstances.
Not that it mattered anyway because by the time I’d finished pondering this strange turn of events, they were already long gone and out of sight.
I continued down the path, but as I rounded the corner and came upon an enormous willow tree that had appeared out of nowhere while I wasn’t paying attention, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d imagined the whole thing.
Or maybe I was hallucinating from the heat?
It was hard to tell for sure because I couldn’t see it, but the way it felt when I reached out to touch it—smooth, hard, cold—suggest that it was made of some kind of solid, material substance rather than simply being an optical illusion or trick of the light.
I frowned as I tried to make sense of this sudden, invisible obstruction that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, blocking my path in both directions like a giant, invisible wall.
What was it, exactly?
And more importantly, where did it come from?
I stopped walking and took a step back, trying to get a better look at it from a distance, but I couldn’t see anything except for the park bench that I’d been walking toward just a few seconds ago.
It was still there, but the invisible barrier that I’d just run into was gone—or at least, it wasn’t visible anymore.
I held up my hand, half expecting my fingers to pass through the barrier like a ghost, but instead they met with an obstruction that I could feel but not see.
I didn’t know how else to describe it other than to say that it felt like an invisible wall, or an invisible force field, or some other kind of invisible thing that was blocking me from going any further.
I didn’t know what to make of it because I couldn’t see anything there—no shimmering lights or sparkly particles or anything else that would suggest the presence of some kind of invisible barrier that I couldn’t see with the naked eye.
But I could feel it, and that was enough to convince me that whatever it was, it was real—and apparently, very solid as well.
I reached out my hand again, this time more tentatively than before, as if I was afraid of running into something solid—and much to my surprise, I did.
It was still there: smooth, hard, cold.
I frowned as I ran my hand along its surface, trying to make sense of this strange new development that seemed to have come out of nowhere.
What was this invisible barrier that I seemed to have run into?
And more importantly, why?
Because that’s exactly what it felt like: a barrier of some kind that was blocking me from going any further down the path.
It seemed to stretch on forever in both directions, dividing the park into two separate halves—one that I could see, and one that I couldn’t.
At least, not with my eyes—but I could sense its presence even if I couldn’t see it, which made me wonder if maybe there was something wrong with me.
Was I losing my mind?
Or had I somehow slipped into another dimension without even realizing it?
It wasn’t like anything like this had ever happened to me before.
I stopped walking and took a step back, trying to get a better look at the area in front of me—but as far as I could tell, nothing had changed.
The path was still there.
The trees were still there.
That’s when I started to get really confused—because even though I couldn’t see anything there when I looked around in all directions to see if there were any signs or anything else that might give me some clue as to why this invisible barrier had suddenly appeared in my path out of nowhere, there still seemed to be something there when I reached out my hands to test its limits.
I started to walk around it—to simply walk around the area in front of me where this invisible barrier seemed to be blocking me from going any further down the path—but to my dismay, it wasn’t that easy.
The invisible barrier seemed to continue on in all directions for some reason that I couldn’t quite understand or explain.
I reached out my hands again to test its limits—reaching out in all directions like some kind of blind person who had suddenly gone deaf—and much to my surprise, I discovered that the invisible barrier didn’t seem to have any limits at all.
It stretched on further than my hands could reach—or at least, further than my hands were able to reach.
I didn’t know why that was—or how that was even possible—but no matter which way I turned or which direction I reached out in with my hands held out in front of me like some kind of zombie or something else that had just come back from the dead, all I could feel were those same smooth, hard surfaces pressing in against my hands.
And then it dawned on me: this invisible barrier that I seemed to have run into—it wasn’t just a barrier that was blocking me from going any further down the path.
It was a barrier that was blocking me from going anywhere at all.
It didn’t seem to have any limits—any boundaries—or any kind of shape that would suggest where it started or ended or anything else like that.
It didn’t seem to follow any kind of straight line—any kind of curve—or any other kind of pattern that would suggest that it had been put there for some reason that made sense to anyone but me.
There didn’t seem to be any walls—any corners—or any other kinds of surfaces that would suggest that there were any angles—any edges—or any other kinds of shapes at all.
That’s when I started to get really freaked out—because up until now, I had simply assumed that this invisible barrier was some kind of straight line or flat surface—or one-dimensional object that had been stretched out in front of me for some reason that I didn’t know why.
But now, as I reached out my hands to test its limits—I realized that there were no limits to test, and no surfaces—or walls—or any other kinds of shapes for me to find.
This invisible barrier was like some kind of shapeless blob—or some other kind of object that was so irregularly shaped that there were no straight lines—no flat surfaces—or any other kinds of patterns for me to follow with my hands or fingers—or any other parts of my body that could feel its presence.
My mind raced with questions: What was this invisible barrier that seemed to have trapped me inside whatever area that was in front of me?
Why had it appeared out of nowhere like this?
How come nobody else seemed to have noticed or cared that this invisible barrier was blocking their path as well?
And more importantly: what was I supposed to do about it now that I had discovered that?
I stood there and tried to make sense of this strange new development—but no matter which way I turned or which direction I reached out in, all that I could see were those same smooth, hard surfaces pressing in against my hands.
