Relato Corto Blog Fiction

My Marshmallow Uber

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In the midst of yet another summer that seemed no different from the rest, I found myself in the tranquility of my home, tending to trivial matters and relishing the knowledge that tomorrow held the promise of a day entirely mine. However, a familiar sense of unease settled upon me, as it always did. Deep down, I knew that despite any grand plans I might concoct, I would inevitably spend the entire day confined within the walls of my abode.

I fancied myself an adventurous soul, one who would willingly venture through the streets in search of danger and excitement. There were moments when I even imagined myself capable of coming to the rescue of those in need. Yet, everything would change the moment I dared to step beyond the confines of the familiar.

I had never been fond of straying too far from the comfort of what I knew. A part of me understood that venturing into the world beyond meant risking losing myself, with no hope of ever returning. Today, like any other day, I awaited the arrival of my Uber, the modern technology that painted a façade of safety, assuring me that it was worth the risk. After all, someone had to bear the weight of the household expenses.

The nagging worry about my roommate’s potential inability to contribute his share of the rent plagued my thoughts. The uncertainty gnawed at me, but he seemed unperturbed, showing no signs of ever leaving the premises on time for work. I longed to summon the courage to inquire about his enigmatic source of sustenance.

And so, the appointed time arrived. The Uber idled obediently in front of my house, as it always did. At that moment, nothing particularly caught my attention. Our journey commenced, much like any other.

Clive, the driver, found himself mired in the depths of a wretched night. Only a few days prior, his son’s mother had taken legal action, obtaining a restraining order against him. To exacerbate his misfortunes, he had foolishly gambled away the entirety of his monthly earnings on a horse that ultimately failed to triumph.

Little did Clive realize that his troubles far surpassed the scope of his present circumstances. The uneventful journey unfolded until I gradually became aware that we had taken a wrong turn. Attempting to voice my concern, I found myself silenced as we veered into an unfamiliar path. The darkness of this part of the city seemed to intensify with every passing moment.

A sliver of hope whispered to me that my four-star-rated driver must surely possess some hidden knowledge, guiding us toward our intended destination. Regardless, I reached for my cell phone, yearning to apprise Miguel, my roommate, of the peculiar turn of events. Alas, it was an ungodly hour, rendering any possibility of a response entirely futile.

As I gazed upon the screen, yearning for a favorable outcome, it dawned upon me that we were gravitating further away from my desired endpoint. “Excuse me,” I interjected, striving to capture the driver’s attention.

“I have a package to deliver before proceeding to your destination,” Clive declared confidently.

His words rang with an air of sincerity, yet failed to quell my growing unease. Was I to be the package he intended to deliver? Did this man perceive an opportunity to abduct me, hoping to extricate himself from the clutches of his debts? It became glaringly apparent—a mere criminal seeking to exploit the vulnerable.

Panic seized hold of me, thrusting me into a state of inexplicable terror. My body seemed enveloped by a colossal marshmallow, slowing down the passage of time itself. I remember only the sensation of tightly clutching something in my hands. Something soft and resilient, possessing a will of its own. Something that struggled against my grasp.

My fingers discovered an aperture, much like a bowler finding the perfect grip on a ball. It granted me a firmer hold on this enigmatic object. Its forceful movements propelled me forward, colliding my face against a pliant surface. Familiarity embraced me as the metallic taste of blood invaded my mouth, yet I clung to the object with renewed determination. It became my sole purpose—to retain possession of this enigma.

Time appeared to freeze as a resounding roar assaulted my ears. Some inner instinct urged me to relinquish my grasp, and so I clung to the object that separated me from the driver’s seat. Then, the most colossal impact struck. My marshmallow fortress failed to shield me from the ensuing agony that permeated every fiber of my being.

Once more, the darkness consumed me, and I found myself floating above a twisted wreckage—a car entangled with a pole. Sole occupant—motionless and lifeless. Recognition flickered within me, reminding me of the ongoing calamity, and I rose to my feet.

The numbing sensation relinquished its hold over me. Stepping out of the car, I sought refuge in a place that might provide sanctuary. A few paces away, I discovered the driver sprawled face down, yet my gaze drifted beyond him. Seizing his cell phone, I realized it remained unscathed, save for a few superficial scratches. Consumed by an inexplicable urgency, I destroyed the device, pressing forward along the path that led me back to my workplace. Surely, such strange and harrowing circumstances befall us all when we dare venture beyond the boundaries of our homes.

About the author

Sebastián Iturralde

Writer of enigmatic tales, weaving captivating narratives that provoke thought and stir the imagination. Unveiling the depths of human experience through words.

By Sebastián Iturralde
Relato Corto Blog Fiction

About Author

Sebastián Iturralde

Writer of enigmatic tales, weaving captivating narratives that provoke thought and stir the imagination. Unveiling the depths of human experience through words.