I had a dream the other night. In this dream I encountered a very tall individual with long hair, pointed fangs, and red eyes. I would say he was a man, but I’m not entirely convinced he was a man at all. Nice outfit, though. He was dressed like a train conductor.

Anyway, I approached him in spite of my better judgment, largely because no matter which direction I tried to flee, I ended up approaching him instead. He said “TICKETS PLEASE” in a voice that seemed to echo the wrath of a thousand dying suns. Reaching into my pocket, I found that there was indeed a ticket there.

It read, “Destination: Your Mind.”

I had no idea where that was. I’d lost it years ago, you see. Thinking it would be nice to find it again, I handed the ticket over to the strange conductor with a newfound eagerness.

He said THANK YOU and burned a hole in the ticket with his fingers. Then he motioned me to walk past him. I didn’t see a train, though. I looked at him quizzically, and he motioned behind him again.

Figuring he knew what was going on better than I did, I walked past him and suddenly found myself in the middle of a war between anthropomorphized waffles and robotic raccoons under a red and black sky. One nearby waffle man lost an arm and gushed syrup all over me just before I was tackled to the ground by an iron raccoon. He looked at me funny before making a noise like a broken VCR, then charged on, leaving me in the boot-trodden muck.

It was at that point that I woke up, wondering what it was that I’d experienced.

Whatever it was, it was all a bit disappointing. I didn’t even find my mind.

The Astral Wanderer is brought to you by the random meanderings of a mind searching for itself. If you like this story, well, good. Good for you. Also, you can support this content’s creation on Patreon. All proceeds go toward rescuing lost minds from strange wars in far-off worlds. Really.