The Realm of Deceptive Walls

*This is a work of fiction*

Billy pressed his small hand against the glittering wall and felt it dissolve into mist beneath his palm. His heart hammered in his chest. At eleven years old, he had imagined adventures, like pirate caves, treasure hunts, or secret forts in the woods, but never a place like this. Never a realm where the world bent and shifted at the mercy of his own words.

Every wall, every corridor, every shining doorway that looked solid was nothing more than a lie made real. And the lies were his.

“Sarah!” His voice cracked as it bounced down the endless shifting passageways. Only moments ago, his sister had been at his side. Now she was gone, swallowed by this trickster-world that seemed to revel in his fear.

Billy forced himself to breathe evenly, though his chest felt tight. If he panicked, he would only make things worse. He knew that now. This place fed on his imagination, twisting every careless untruth into a new prison. And if Sarah was caught somewhere inside…

He shut his eyes. If the walls were lies, maybe he needed to trust his other senses. The stone beneath his sneakers felt rough, gritty. The air smelled damp, like rain that had never fallen. Then, faintly, he heard it:

“Billy! Help me!” Sarah’s voice, sharp with panic.

Billy’s throat clenched. Sarah never cried for help. Not when she scraped her knees on the blacktop, not when she argued with him over who got the last cookie, not even when she broke her wrist last year falling from the monkey bars. Hearing her frightened now made his stomach twist with guilt.

He pushed forward, but the world shifted again. Corridors melted away. Doorframes appeared and led to nowhere. He ground his teeth, frustration bubbling. “Fine,” he muttered. “If lies built this place, maybe lies can get me out.”

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted: “I’m in a forest! Trees everywhere, tall as buildings!”

The realm rippled. Walls shivered and fell like curtains, replaced by thick trunks stretching skyward. Leaves whispered in a wind that hadn’t existed before. For an instant, Billy marveled at what he had done. His lie had shaped reality.

But then the ground rumbled. Roots writhed, trunks bent, branches wove together until a cage of living wood sealed around him. Panic punched through his chest.

“Sarah!” he cried, voice breaking.

“I’m here!” Her voice rang clearer now, but it trembled. “I’m stuck. It’s mirrors, Billy, everywhere. I can’t find the way out. Everything looks the same.”

Billy’s heart sank. Sarah almost always told the truth, sometimes annoyingly so. And now, because he had lied, she was trapped in reflections that weren’t hers. His lies weren’t just hurting him. They were dragging her into the traps as well.

Something shimmered before him. A small key floated in the air inside his cage, glowing faintly like a firefly. Billy reached for it, and the moment his fingers closed around it, a pulse of understanding jolted through him. The key was no trick. It was a gift, a reminder. Maybe lies built walls, but truth could open doors.

“Sarah!” he shouted, clutching the key. “Listen to me. I’m in a wooden cage, but I’m okay. This place is tied to my words. The lies come alive here. They’re what trapped us. Be careful. Only the truth can set us free.”

The bars around him quivered, then thinned, then vanished like mist. He stumbled forward, gasping as the forest shimmered back into fractured corridors.

Sarah’s voice came strong now. “Billy! I can hear you better. The mirrors are cracking!”

“Good,” he said, his pulse steadying. “Keep telling me what you see. The truth makes this place weaker.”

So they did. Word by word, they spoke their realities aloud. “I see broken glass at my feet.” “I see the corridor bending left.” “I see light ahead.” And as they spoke, the realm obeyed. Mirrors shattered. Paths straightened. Distance folded in on itself until at last, Billy rounded a corner and found her.

She stood there, her face pale but determined, eyes glistening with relief.

“Sarah!” he shouted, joy spilling through him.

They ran into each other’s arms. For a heartbeat the realm seemed to freeze, as if holding its breath. Then, before them, a great door rose up out of the mist. Its surface glowed, and at its center was a lock that pulsed in rhythm with the key in Billy’s hand.

He lifted it, hand shaking. “I think this is the way out.”

They pressed their hands together over the key, sliding it into the lock. But it didn’t turn. Not yet. The door seemed to wait.

Then Sarah whispered, her voice trembling but certain: “I love you, Billy. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

Billy’s throat tightened. “I love you too, Sarah. I would never leave you behind.”

The key turned with a ringing click. Light poured out, wrapping around them like a warm embrace. The illusions fell away. The forest, the mirrors, and the shimmering corridors all dissolved into sparks that faded into sunlight.

When Billy blinked, he was standing with Sarah in their living room. The old clock ticked softly on the wall. The air smelled of spaghetti sauce drifting from the kitchen. Outside, the familiar neighborhood basked in the afternoon sun.

“Dinner’s ready!” their mother called.

Billy looked at Sarah, and Sarah looked back. Neither spoke, but both smiled, sharing the secret of what they had just endured. They hadn’t just come home. They had found their bond and learned that truth was the strongest magic of all.

*End*

I Made This Up

My tooth ached. I was going to have to venture out.

I had no idea what I would find. I hadn't been off the farm since 2020, when the virus hit and people in the United States began to drop like flies.

Mama and me, we were in the hills on our farm. I had Internet, though, because we weren't that rural.

I was in my last year of school, and would turn 18 in June.

But I'd never finish that last year.

Mama made me stay home even before the officials began telling everyone to practice something called "social distancing." We stayed home as long as we could, but the sugar and salt and other items began to run out.

The day Mama decided to go to the store, I cried.

"You stop that now," she chided. "But if I don't come back, don't you leave this place. Don't you leave until someone you trust says you can."

She never came back.

Mama could have been killed in a car wreck for all I knew. I feared she'd been taken, though. I'd read stories in the far corners of the Internet that the government was using this virus thing to take people, to simply steal them away, and then declare them dead.

I don't know what they were doing with those folks, and I didn't want to think about it.

The world began shutting itself down. For a while I tended the farm and things seemed like they might be normal. School maybe would be in my future in a few months, according to the TV. I was still online, things were still working. Mama had lots of money in her accounts from when Daddy'd died in an accident at work. I kept paying the bills when they came.

Then after some folks went back to their normal, the virus hit again.

I think most everyone died.

The TV stopped. My friends quit posting on Facebook, with no explanation. The guy who delivered the gas, who was the only person I'd seen on the farm since just before Mama left, never showed back up so I began rationing that so I would have it. Fortunately, Mama had filled the big tanks down at the barn.

Bills no longer came. Some things kept working though, like electricity and my Internet connection. The lights flickered sometimes during a storm, and once the Internet disappeared for days but it came back. The stuff still worked and I still used it.

I hadn't seen any updated news or information from anyone since late in 2021. That was four years ago.

There were no new videos of folks doing silly things to cheer one another up. No new videos of cats and dogs.

I'd been alone for 8 months when I felt like the world had stopped and left me alone. I didn't need the things Mama had gone after and I was afraid to leave the farm. I didn't have anyone to trust, really. We lived off the road a good ways, and the driveway was hard to spot. The last time I'd walked up there, it was so overgrown no one would have known a house was behind the trees.

I lived off of what I grew and canned. I had peach trees and I kept the seeds from the vegetables so I'd have enough for the next year. The cattle ran wild except for the six or seven I could manage. Once a year I shot a wild one and cut up the beef, canning most of it in case the electricity went out.

Never saw a soul, though.

Didn't see airplanes in the sky, or hear a car. It had been so long since I'd heard that lonesome whistle of the train way down over the hill that I'd about forgotten one once ran through there to the cement plant.

I checked the Internet every day after I did my chores. There were so many youtube videos I figured I could sit there and learn new things for years even if no one was putting up new stuff.

Then my tooth started hurting.

I googled how to fix your tooth and found that pulling it was about the only remedy without a dentist.

So I decided it was time to go see a dentist.

The ol' Toyota truck hadn't been moved much. I'd used it to drive to the mailbox for a while, but after the mail no longer came, I only turned the engine over once or twice every few months, to keep her running. Now I had to hope she'd hold up for the 15-mile trip to Daleville.

Getting out of the driveway was harder than I'd expected it to be. The dirt driveway was overgrown and I had to stop and cut down a few small palmetto trees every now and then. Bending over made my face throb with that tooth. Boy, did it ache.

The chain had rusted across the drive, but a spritz of WD-40 let me get that open. I was on the road, and now anyone could see that someone had driven back into that nearly invisible spot in the trees.

I did not pass a vehicle on my way to town. Nor did I see children playing, or clothes drying on clotheslines, or see another farmer making hay or a woman working in her garden. Every house I passed looked vacant.

Pulling onto the main road, I saw that the businesses along US 220 looked about the same as they did along Gravel Hill Road. Empty.

Empty like in the morning someone might come in and do a little cleaning. Not empty like vagrants had moved in and broken all the windows. Empty like someone had simply closed the door and then, "poof," no one went back.

I moved on through the community. No movement. No dogs, even.

My scream was audible when a cat darted across my path. First living thing I'd seen the whole trip.

I pulled into the dentist office and looked at the shuttered building. The windows weren't broken. The doors weren't open. No lights on. I hopped from the truck and tried a door.

I was going to have to break in.

Dear Lady M.

My Dear Lady M.,

I do hope that your little cats, Precious and Frodo, are doing well and of course I greatly desire to hear that you too are in good spirits and fine health.

My delight in finishing my tax documents was enormous, and I am pleased to report that I have recovered my health.

Today I am concerned about something my state government is doing - changing the Freedom of Information Act laws. As you know, Lady M., there is no need for secrecy in government, particularly in local government. (I'm not talking about national security; if we've plans to blow the world up with some new bomb, I'm not sure I want to know about it.) These people are paid with public funds and their actions therefore should be visible to the public at large. No local government has to have a closed meeting to discuss anything if they don't want to. The fact that they do is a pall upon their nature and in my opinion closed meetings cast disgusting shadows upon the entire legislative process. Today I counted 28 different changes to the state's Freedom of Information Act. All but one purposes to cut off public access to various and sundry documents, including some in the court system that are currently available if one only goes to the courthouse to look.

Shame, shame, I say. Let the people know their own business, or it is no longer the people's business, but despots' desires. Are we or are we not a democracy? Never mind, Lady M., as I know the answer to that one. We are not a democracy. We're not even a republic. We're an oligarchy pretending to be a democratic republic. Ha.

I heard through the grapevine that you had tea with the illustrious artist, Lady D., and that she asked if she could paint you in the form of the Queen from Alice in Wonderland. What on earth possessed you to say yes? I know you love her artwork but what a fanciful idea. I have a hard time envisioning you as one who would say, "Off with her head." I suppose Precious could be the vanishing cat of the story, though.

As for me, I have little news to report of my own industry. I have been thinking of taking up painting but I am not sure I could stand the scent of the oils. Perhaps watercolor?

That is all for now, Lady M. Please do write whenever you have the time. I so enjoy hearing from you.

With best wishes and kindest regards,

Lady J.

________________________

My Dear Lady J.,

I am happy to report to you that not only am I well, but Frodo and Precious are simply divine. They must be the happiest little kitties in the world, they purr so much. Frodo is starting to look a bit overweight, though, so I think I must cut back at feeding time. Otherwise I shall have to rename him Samwise!

Lady D. and I did have a most pleasant visit. She is such a delight, always laughing and carrying on about the ways of the universe. She told me a tale of a local ghost that was most delightful; remind me to share it with you next time we are out. She is not pleased, however, with the current affairs of government and agrees with the two of us that something must be done. Time's up, as they are saying, but I'm not sure exactly what we will have in its place. I hope for better but sometimes I find change to be dire.

Your concerns about the Freedom of Information Act are appropriate and I agree, the work of the people should be available for the people to see. Unfortunately our governmental protectors (is it fine to call them that? I do not feel protected.) see themselves as little kings and thus the people - that is, you and I - are not to be trusted with vital information. I say cast the lot of them out in the November election and let's start anew. Resist, revolution, remake. Perhaps we need lessons on the three "Rs" again?

My concerns now are at the federal level, as another government shutdown looms again. What is wrong with these people? Dear me, it does seem like we have fallen into the rabbit hole - which is why I agreed to dear Lady D.'s request. If I'm going to live on a crazy chessboard I may as well be painted the part, don't you think?

I also laughed heartily at the "memo" which proved nothing and said very little. I read the thing in its entirety and thought, what a bunch of wasted paper. I do fear all of that ado about nothing was really a cover-up for something else. Something that the wealthy know about, apparently, since they are pulling their money from the stock market and it is falling faster and harder than a baseball during a foul ball play. Who knows how this will play out. I knew it was coming and I daresay it will not stop until it has dropped back to 13,000. That will put a crick in the neck of everyone who has their retirement socked away in a mutual fund, I'm afraid.

Ah well. These are topics about which we can do little, for we have no control. What I can control is when I have tea, and as it is that time again, Lady J., I bid you a fond farewell.

Until next time, I am your faithful servant,

Lady M.


____________
Note: This is a work of fiction (sort of). There is no Lady M. or Lady J. I have been watching Victoria on PBS and the queen writes frequently to "Lord M." in the show, and I thought it would be fun to create two characters and have them write back and forth occasionally, using a more gentile language and style than our present day verbiage.

Dear Lady M.

Dear Lady M.,

I hope this finds you having a glorious day despite the clouds and chill in the air. This morning around 9:30 a.m. I was delighted to find my yard full of birds - mostly robins, but also a few sparrows, blue jays and at least one bird I could not identify. While it seems to me that this migration is a bit early (my delightful grandmother used to always say the sight of robins meant spring was nigh), I confess I stood outside for a while simply listening to the chatter of these beautiful creatures. Some time ago I learned to see birds in trees - a difficult but not impossible task, as it takes only time and inclination to find them. I stole the idea from Annie Dillard when I read Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Of course, it is easier to spy birds in leafless trees in January than it is in June, when the leaves make bird watching a tad more difficult.

Our government, it seems, is throwing a tantrum and congressional discord has closed various governmental agencies until such time as the toddlers can find their lollipops and return to a semblance of content and tolerable play. I must say, Lady M., that I find this all very puzzling. I would like to see less kindergarten antics and more actual governing, but I am not at all sure that the current office holders are capable of anything more than pushing and shoving. The New York Times today reports the Democrats are open to negotiation. My personal thoughts are that problematic items should be removed from the budget debate and they should pass what I call a clean bill - one that funds what must be funded. These government shutdowns create much confusion for the citizenry and I am sorry for anyone who works in these departments who is now caught up in political bum fuddling.

As you know, January is always the time I work on tax items for our various enterprises. So far it has gone fairly smoothly. A severe cold has been more trouble than the tax documents this year, so I am grateful that the former is subsiding and the latter is coming to an end. I hope to be finished with this paperwork by Friday.

I am looking forward to spring and the arrival of warmer weather. What a dreadful January we have had, with record low temperatures and ice. We have a drought on top of that, so it is difficult to fuss about precipitation. Rain tonight will be welcome.

In closing, Lady M., I hope that you have a pleasant week and that your efforts to write a novel are going well.

With kindest regards,

Lady J.

______________________________

Dear Lady J.,

As always, I am pleased to hear from you. Your description of your morning with the birds sounds lovely. I have found it difficult to have birds around because of my cats, but that is the price I pay for having such splendid creatures by my side. You know I adore their purrs and meows very much and find them pleasant company.

Your comments about the government are, I fear, on the mark. We do seem to have devolved in the art of statesmanship. I can recall better times when gentlemen (and gentlewomen) were the champions of the people, not the bastions of soiled monetary despots. That was a different world then, and while I do not knock progress, I must say what I see now does not strike me as progressive in the least. Regressive, perhaps. But certainly I do not see forward movement. My copy of the newspaper notes the "blame game" is strong, with neither side taking any credit for the state in which we the people now find ourselves. Each so-called congressional representative should look long in a mirror and say the following, "I serve all of the people of the United States." Perhaps repetition would make them learn that they owe their service to more than their "base."

May the upcoming week be one of joy for you. I know those taxes can be troublesome, but I have every faith in your ability to do what must be done and complete the work on time. I hope too that your health continues to improve.

Your faithful servant,

Lady M.

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Note: This is a work of fiction (sort of). There is no Lady M. or Lady J. I have been watching Victoria on PBS and the queen writes frequently to "Lord M." in the show, and I thought it would be fun to create two characters and have them write back and forth once a week, using a more gentile language and style than our present day verbiage.

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT

*This is a work of fiction.*

I am going to run for President of the United States.

I don't have a platform, but I don't need one.  I promise you this: under my administration you will not pay federal taxes to the United States of America. None.

That's because I promise that within my first year, there will no longer be a United States of America.

Within one hour of my swearing in, I will call a special session of every state governor and its two senators (forget Congress, bunch of yahoos).  Together we will divide up the country, and end this fiasco.

We will negate the U.S. Constitution forever. Each new little country can do what it damn well pleases.

This means you will no longer have Social Security, Medicare, interstates, free movement about this vast land, national parks, or a big military. No welfare, nothing to keep you from starving except the goodwill of your neighbors, and no rule of law. You'll have to create that yourselves. You can adopt some form of the U.S. Constitution if you want, or you can use a state's constitution, or you can just play it by ear, for all I care. You can have a president, a dictator, a queen, a king, an emperor, empress, dictator, whatever. Go for it.

Unfortunately, because the U.S. is running at a deficit, there will be nothing to return to each citizen. Instead, you will each (every man, woman and child) owe at least $70,000 and change to pay current outstanding bills. However, that will be payable to your new little nation-state, not the federal government, because this unpaid balance will be handed off to each new little country on a per capita basis. Sorry about that. That means all of these little nations will probably be in the hole to begin with, so no other country is going to help you out or loan you money or anything. But I'm sure you can handle it. After all, this seems to be what everybody wants now, no federal government, no oversight. Just the ability to do what you want.

I looked at a map and here is how I anticipate distribution of land mass:

Starting from the west:

the state of Hawaii will be Hawaii.

the state of Alaska will be Alaska (unless Canada wants it).

the states of California, Nevada, Oregon, and Washington will become Calivadagon.

the states of Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming will be Monomaha.

the states of North Dakota, South Dakota, and Nebraska will be Dakato.

the states of Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Iowa will be Winnesowa.

the states of Utah and Arizona will be Arizona.

the states of Colorado, New Mexico, Kansas, and Oklahoma will be New Radohoma.

the state of Texas will just be Texas.

the states of Missouri, Arkansas, Louisiana, and Mississippi will become Missarkiania.

the states of Tennessee, Alabama, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and the southern part of Virginia will be Carolina.

the state of Florida will remain Florida.

the states of Kentucky, West Virginia, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and Michigan will be Illindiano.

the northern part of Virginia, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Washington DC, Maryland, and New Jersey will be Pennaryland.

The northeastern states from New York up, which include Maine, Massachusetts, Vermont, Rhode Island, and Connecticut, will be New Massachusetts.

Of course, the name choices can change, and some states may decide they need to be divided, like I divided Virginia. I live in Virginia and I know it's politically divided, but I would have to leave that to the governors to determine if say, part of New Mexico should really go with Texas.

After all, while I may be a fairly stable genius, I'm also intelligent enough to know I don't know everything.

Now all of this is going to create a lot of instability for a while, so the United States Military will remain viable until things settle down. We'll offer some protection from conquests for a bit. We will take military bulldozers to all the connecting roads and interstates so that people can't move from one new area to the other. I will plant a soldier every 20 feet along every boundary until each little nation state can get its wall built. We can't have any cross-over because that will mess up the math. Don't want no Pennarylanders trying to become New Radohomas now, do we? Orders will be to shoot on site until the walls are built, so don't try to move, okay?

However, once every little nation is up and running, which I think will take about three years, the U.S. Military will completely disband and each little nation will be on its own. If Florida wants to go to war with Carolina because they need the food Carolina produces, have at it. And of course Florida folks don't care if China moves in and takes over Alaska.

This will give everyone everything they seem to want. No reliance on any federal government, just reliance on themselves.

Good luck to you all.

You can send money for my election when I set up a gofundme account.

*Again, a work of fiction. I can't believe I feel like I have to write that twice.*