Pat's Holes: A Narrative Fiction

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Pat ran her hands over the rough trunks of the trees as she passed them, luxuriating in the crisp, fresh air and the sunlight that wiggled through holes in the leafy canopy overhead. She hadn’t known that along with the greatest machine ever made she’d be getting a vacation too, but that’s exactly what this felt like. She could feel the knots that’d formed in the muscles of her shoulders after hours of bending over her drawing board starting to loosen up. She was walking taller than she had in a long time when a ball of roots twisted around her ankle, eliciting a sickening crunch. Pat hit the ground before she started to scream. Raw, stabbing pain radiated up to her knee. When she had the courage to look down, her foot was turned almost completely sideways. She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and turned her face up to the sky. Plans started to form in the small…show more content…
Pat wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. It was a little late, but the child had brought help. Maybe young children weren’t so completely feckless after all. “Thank goodness,” Pat said through panting breaths. She looked down at the child. “I thought I was going to die out here.” “From where did you come?” the taller of the men said. He was dressed like a pilgrim, which might’ve been funny if Pat’s ankle weren’t throbbing so badly. “Indiana. I teach there, and I made a machine that brought me here. It should be right around the corner if you could help me get-” “A machine? To bring you here?” the other man said. His voice was reedy and made the hair on the back on Pat’s neck prickle. “Where, pray, is Indiana?” “It’s in the middle of the country. I don’t exactly know how to get there from here.” Pat looked around, but she was hopeless with directions. For all she knew, north could be straight up. “If you do not know how to get home, how will your machine assist

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