A Journey Homeward

Greetings, worried acquaintances of an amiable nature.
I write on this fine day to assure you that I am, if nothing else, alive and to tell you the fantastically droll story of my journey....

Once I pulled the door shut behind me, I took a tentative step into the great cavern known to the locals as "Andrew's Garage." I wondered if, in the pitch black darkness that awaited me, there lurked a hungry grue or two. Running, however, turned out to be an unwise decision, as there were strange devices scattered throughout the cave that went "crash" or "thunk" when collided with, and generally proved quite painful.

At last, a tiny spark of light alerted me to the location of the second door, which I knew would lead me once more to open air. My elation, however, was short lived, and was soon replaced with sheer panic as I fond myself unable to open said door. No matter how hard I pushed, it would not budge. It did not possess a lock. Could it be jammed? Had it swollen suddenly of its own accord, intent on trapping me in this dark cavern for all of eternity? I was on the verge of giving up, and returning defeated to you whom I had so recently left, when suddenly a brilliant idea arced across my mind, not unlike a tiny light bulb of hope pole-vaulting it's way through the terror-wrought night. Perhaps, just maybe, pulling on the door, rather than pushing, would yield some success.

And huzzah! Stubbornly admitting to my brilliance, the door stuttered open. Released from the inky clutches of the cavern, I set out into the only slightly less inky night. Making a mental note-to-self about such door-defeating techniques for future escapades, I strode boldly onwards, searching for the wayward footwear that I had left lying so carelessly somewhere in the hills of Dellwood.

Upon locating my sandals, I opted to carry them, rather than take advantage of their foot-protecting capabilities as I was certain that I would need to use them as a weapon should I be confronted by any marauding monsters or diabolical little girls climbing out of wells. Lord knows that there were enough ancient stone wells scattered across the golf course that lay betwixt me and my destination.

My journey across this golf course went relatively smoothly, and I successfully dodged most of the trees even if their outlying branches proved a more wily foe. Then I reached the road.

At this point, it could have been a good idea to finally put my sandals on to protect me from such objects as pointy sticks and broken glass. But an unnerving incident with a hulking figure loitering suspiciously on the side of the road (which, coincidentally, turned out to be a mail box), lead to my option to retain my shoes in my hands. For, if I were to actually attempt to kick something in self defense, the exercise would more than likely end with me flat on my back, and quite possibly in pain. Much safer to use the shoes via my hands.

At last, as I turned the final corner, a sudden increase in the amount of painfully blinding light resulted in a near-fatal run in with a rock. I did recover, however, as evidenced by the fact that I am able still to bless this world with these very words.
Once able to clear my vision of spots, I saw that the light was cast by the headlights of my mother's car. She was early, as usual.

And so the hour grows ever later as I pen these words, hoping that they may bring you some reassurance of my continuing existence, and some comfort in the agonizing hours in which you face the absence of my illuminating presence.

Yours always, much love, best wishes, kind regards, congratulations,
                                                                                                                -T