The Game

The tides have lowered; it's time. I've waited long enough, meticulously preparing and researching every minute detail of the trip. I will find the island; I whisper quietly to myself.  The small ship rocks gently in the southern winds. It's been fully camouflaged for the journey. The moonlight grazes the silver spoon mast, casting a sheen into the water. The hull is reinforced with mint chocolate, and the Cannons are cherry loaded for emergencies. Climbing aboard, I strike a match on the caramel lantern, emitting the soft stealthy glow. I push away from the dock and start rowing till the fudge sails catch air. It seems a lifetime passes before I reach the fog, which marks the point of no return. All around me is frigid, my breath threatening to climb back into my throat. Suddenly, the boat comes to a slow crawl. I look overboard and see the slow swells of marshmallow, carrying my vessel forward on its own, as if possessed by spirits. It's not long before the night burns away, replaced by the warm rays of the gum drop star in the sky. It actually worked I exclaimed excitedly; I found it. Candyland.

I reach the shore and jump off the boat, ravenous to explore the secrets and treasures this place holds. My first step lands me in some gelatinous material, thick and slippery like a jellyfish. When I reach down, it moves away, like an opposite magnet.  It glides gracefully along the sand, almost beckoning me to follow it, which I do. Once I crest the hill, I am distracted by the silhouettes ahead, and I try to move towards the mysterious figures. The air is different here. Heavy. I must strain to breathe.  The figures are clearer now, plastic toys with grotesque expressions. Only then do I realize I'm standing still, and my feet and legs are already encased by the very viscous thing I was just following.   I look at the boat, but it's already been swallowed by the beach. Its creeping tendrils reach my neck, and a square path appears before me. I realize the island does not allow visitors, only players.