French Bread

 

            Wind blew through Preston’s hair as he feverishly pedaled his bike to the corner grocery store. Why did he have to go, right now? He was so close to leveling up on his video game. Soon, he would get the legendary sword and be pretty much invincible. But, of course, Mom had to send him to go get a loaf of French bread for dinner.

            It only took Preston a few minutes to ride to the bike stand outside the store. He threw the lock on haphazardly, his mind still on what he needed to do next in his game. He ran up to the sliding door and was startled to see someone standing off to the side. His mouth dropped open when he realized it was Talus, his avatar from the game. He looked just like he had come out of Preston’s TV. He even had the blue shield strapped to his back and the double sword blades Preston preferred.

            A woman bumped into Preston from behind with a hurried, “Whoops, sorry!” Preston glanced at her as she stepped through the door. When he looked back to where Talus had been standing, there was no longer anyone there. He spun around, but couldn’t see Talus anywhere.

            Shaking his head, Preston decided he had been seeing things. He stepped up to the sliding doors, and they opened with a whoosh! He stepped over the threshold before realizing that he must be in the wrong place. Instead of looking at shelves stocked with food, he was standing at the edge of a jungle. He blinked, trying to make sense of what was happening.

            Before he could do anything, Talus was standing next to him. “Ready for a real adventure?” The smile on Talus’s face was full of malice.

            “I-I-I’m supposed to pick up some French bread for my mom,” Preston stuttered.

            Placing a hand on Preston’s shoulder, Talus said, “Don’t worry about your mom. Aren’t you tired of facing danger from the safety of your couch? Find out what it’s really like to be fighting monsters, face-to-face.”

            Preston felt all the blood leave his face. “Um, no thank you. I’ve got to get back.” He turned and ran back through the sliding doors, which were miraculously still there. He didn’t stop running until he had grabbed his bike and was pedaling hard. He rode three blocks to another small grocery store, focusing only on the French bread.

            He finally made it back home, where he tiredly set the bread on the kitchen counter.

            “Thank you, son,” Mom said with a smile. “I know it was hard to take a break from your game, but now you can go play it again.”

            Preston left the kitchen without a word, but he didn’t return to his game. He decided he’d had enough of it for a while.