Off the Beaten Path
He was utterly lost. He kicked a pebble and watched it disappear into the mist as he recalled the advice of countless adults in his life: “Make sure to stay on the path!” “No sense in wandering; you’ll have plenty of fun when you get there.”

There was an audible crunch as he plopped down to give his legs a break from walking. A groan slipped from his lips as he adjusted his weight to find out what he had sat on, but the groan jumped several octaves as something scurried out from under him. He was already on his feet by the time a millipede longer than his arm addressed him,
“For crying out loud, you dirty bipedal! You’ve crushed at least fifty of my legs. How can I go home now? Everybody is going to laugh at me. I can’t call myself a millipede anymore; I might as well pack my bags and start living with the damn centipedes.”
“You can talk?”
The millipede drew roughly 100 arms across its middle in order to brush off what would have been its shoulders.
“Of course I can talk,” it said in a muffled voice as it lit a cigarette. The boy briefly wondered where it had pulled a cigarette from. “But never mind that. You’re a human. Shouldn’t you be on the path? What’s your name, kid?”
“Charlie.”
“Well, Charlie, what’re you doing in my neck of the woods?”

His mouth opened as though he was going to say something, but he paused. Charlie had been so bored walking the path. Generations of feet had pummeled the earth into a uniform line that gleamed like stone. His parents’ voices echoed in his mind: “It doesn’t matter if you’re not sure about it. You have to go. What else do you plan to do -- play video games all day?” Charlie didn’t even like video games.
“I don’t know. I guess walking the path is what everybody wanted me to do, but not what I wanted to do.”
“Well, I’m glad you got off the path, kid. It’s for zombies. Tell you what; I’m going to help you through the mist. Follow me.”

They then began to ascend a hill, enjoying each other’s company. The conversation focused on Charlie’s interests, and the world off the beaten trail. After several hours, the mist receded and Charlie could make out the figures of humans. Some were fishing; others, firing potato guns at trees, and still more were rolling what appeared to be an enormous ball full of people up the hill.
“Who are they?” Charlie asked.
“You aren’t the first to find your own path, Charlie. I helped all of them find their passions. Unfortunately, this is the end of our journey together.”
“What am I supposed to do now?”
“That’s up to you. I’ve led you through the mist; from here it’s up to you.”
“Wait! What’s your name?”
“Col. Col Lege,” and with that, Col rode his wave of legs away into the mist.