I blame my ex-girlfriend for all of this. Susan always had the ability to make me doubt myself. We were together for ten months, nine of which were spent discovering how much we really disliked each other. The most joyous part of the relationship for me was seeing the look on her face when she finally told me she thought we should break up and I replied, "Thank god!"

During that delirious first month of our time together, we had the good sense to do very little communicating, spending the time surrendering to passion rather than learning about each other. It wasn't love, but it wasn't bad.

The next nine months were workshops in mutual destruction. I thought I was trying (I wasn't), she thought she was improving me (she wasn't) and we both thought we had a chance at happiness together (insert ironic laughter here). When we finally split, we were both convinced it was the other person's fault. As proof to myself that she was the villain of this story, I decided to do one thing that she was passionate about that we never accomplished together, thereby showing my magnanimous and open nature, even in the face of her nefarious betrayal.

The choice came down to veganism or hiking, twin evils with as much appeal as a glass of water during a thunderstorm. Veganism seemed to me a self-imposed torture, a moral equivalent to those poor flagellants, bleeding out for Christ. Hiking on the other hand, seemed an unpleasant pastime whose only value was to escaped prisoners fleeing the authorities through some national park, or an exhausting requirement after running out of gas miles from a service station.

Upon weighing the options, and unwilling to abandon the glories of a medium-rare bacon burger with blue cheese and grilled onions, I decided to give hiking a one time chance, in the profound hope that when I ran into Susan again (undoubtedly sacrificing kittens or eating babies), I would be able to rub my noble pursuits in her face to positively show her who the more emotionally mature partner in our relationship was.

I decided that a three day hike into the uncomfortably natural beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains would meet all the necessary requirements to prove me an avid and successful hiker. I will be the first to confess that I may have over-estimated my own abilities by some substantial degree. Hiking and camping (basically, voluntarily selecting the homeless lifestyle in an exceedingly hostile environment) required more knowledge and skill than I had anticipated. This fact was proven on the second night, when my backpack containing all my worldly goods was stolen by a large black bear with ill intent. The following three days, without a compass or phone, and drinking stream water, confirmed everything I had thought about hiking. It was at that point I considered that Susan had purposely planted the seed of hiking in my mind as an elaborate plot to murder me. As I said, she is nefarious.

On the fourth day of my descent into oblivion I found myself in a pleasant clearing. Small patches of mushrooms and wildflowers dotted the moss and grass. It seemed as pleasant a place as any to take a short nap, I was in no hurry to continue my pointless trek to nowhere.

I was awakened from my dream of street signs and Uber drivers by a violent shake. I opened my eyes to the judgmental stare of a Park Ranger, or as I refer to them, the Gestapo of the Woods.  

He reached out his hand and roughly helped me up. "I'm afraid you're under arrest sir."

"For falling asleep in the woods?" I protested.

He pointed a gun at me, "No sir, for murder."

"Murder, who was it I supposedly killed?" I asked with genuine curiosity.

He restrained my hands with zip ties before answering, "For murdering the Troll King. Now follow me."

Needless to say, I was in a state of confusion as the Ranger led me deeper into the unwelcoming woods. I remained silent, not wishing to encourage his mad accusations. We walked (I refuse to call it hiking, since my hands were bound and my understanding of hiking requires freedom of the limbs) toward the foothills of some higher peaks until we reached what appeared to be a mound of enormous boulders. Between two of the larger monoliths, a veil of ivy touched the ground. I paused and he roughly pushed me forward. I stumbled through the green curtain and found myself, well, somewhere else.

It was at this point I seriously considered the possibility that I was still passed out, face down in the clearing, having accidentally consumed those tiny mushrooms and now in the thralls of an epic hallucination, for suddenly I found myself in a village comprised of stone cottages with thatched moss covered roofs occupied by a bizarre array of creatures better suited to Disney erotica or a horror movie directed by a crazed lunatic recently off his meds. Curious red and yellow eyes peered at us from the darkened interiors of the homes, while hundreds of naked little humanoids with transparent wings flitted around our heads like a swarm of horny mosquitoes.

"Annoying creatures," the Ranger noted, "they'll mate anywhere at anytime, it's a disgrace."

I was about to answer when a large form emerged from behind one of the cottages and approached us. I stepped back in fright, but the Ranger restrained me.

"That's Grimkee, the Troll King's daughter. I guess she's the Troll Queen now that you've killed her father."

"I didn't kill anyone," I insisted.

Grimkee approached to within a few feet of me. She stood over seven feet tall with a vaguely female form, clad in silver armor. Her head resembled that of a toad, but with gleaming sharp nasty teeth that protruded from her mouth. I suppose she may have been attractive for a troll, but I am a somewhat shallow person and did not find her physically appealing at all.

She simply glared at me for a moment before her features transformed into what could possibly be called a smile. She did not speak and the Ranger pushed me past her.

"Flirting will do you no good, we must get you to the trial," he said.

"Trial? That was fast," I noted.

"Time works differently here, and we do not waste it."

I was led to a large wooden hall on the outskirts of the village. When we entered, I was quite surprised to see that the interior looked like the set of every courtroom drama I have ever watched. The room was packed with all manner of humanish beings, from the pesky fuck-fairies, to trolls, to things I had only imagined in my wildest drunk deliriums. The only human I saw, other than the Ranger, was seated at the defense table where my captor deposited me.

The small overweight and balding man thrust out his hand and introduced himself, "I'm Leonard Shiplitz, I'll be acting as your defense attorney. It doesn't look great for you, but it could be far worse. The consensus is that it was unintentional, but you will almost certainly be punished."

These are not the first words you want to hear from somebody tasked with defending you. I still had no idea how, or where, for that matter, I had supposedly assassinated Grimkee's father. Before I could ask, the court was brought to order as the Judge made her way to her seat. It was not your run-of-the-mill judge (at this point, 'run-of-the-mill' seems a meaningless phrase).

She was striking, to say the least, with skin the color of obsidian, pointed ears and nose, and piercing yellow eyes.

"There's something you don't see every day," I commented to my lawyer.

"She's a kobold," Leonard replied, "her name is Krepke."

"You seem to know her pretty well."

"I should," he replied, "I'm married to her."

Since my brain was already overloaded, this additional bit of information was simply accepted without comment. I was still more than a little concerned about my present situation and queried him about the crime of which I was accused.

"Everyone knows it was an accident," he began, "Querg, the Troll King always had a weakness for glow worm liquor...," (I really wanted to know how you make booze out of bugs, but held my tongue), "...and he got really shit-faced and stumbled into the human realm from this one. What you probably don't know is that when one of these Fae, that's what they call themselves, enters our world, they become invisible and significantly smaller. About eighteen inches for a troll...anyway he stumbled around for a while before passing out in that clearing where they found you."

He looked at me sympathetically before continuing, "To put it bluntly, you fell asleep on him and smothered him. The Ranger said you were using his invisible corpse as a pillow when he found you."

This was certainly news, though my first thought was that he must have been pretty soft as I am very particular about my pillows. I took the pause in the conversation as an opportunity to ask a question that had been nagging me.

"You and the Ranger are both human... what the hell are you doing here?"

"We were both convicted of crimes and as a result are bound to this realm. Before you ask, I accidentally ate an invisible water-sprite that was doing something I won't speak of with a trout, and the Ranger wrecked havoc on a pack of those dreadful fairies with a bug-zapper."

After trying not to visualize those particular transgressions (to no avail), I asked what my likely fate would be.

"If it were murder of a Fae by a human, you would be eaten by some little nasties that live here, that even the Fae are embarrassed by... and trust me, they don't embarrass easily. For death by misadventure, you would most likely be bound to this realm like the Ranger and I and asked to marry the aggrieved party... in this case, Grimkee, the new troll queen."

I cannot accurately describe my feelings at this point except to say that being eaten by carnivorous fairies suddenly seemed far less terrible. I looked across the courthouse at Grimkee. She was batting her terrifying eyes at me and licking her lips (beak?).

"And if I refuse?" I asked desperately.

"You will be suspended from a rope by your neck until you either die or agree to the wedding."

"Hanged by the neck until I am wed?" I blurted out (I have never been able to resist a pun).

Leonard chuckled, "Very good," he pointed at a chubby dwarf approaching the witness box, "there's the coroner. Once he establishes accidental death, the trial will be pretty much over and the judge, darling Krepke, will pass sentence."

The coroner gave his credentials (are there Fae colleges? Do they have to deal with student loans or are they all a bunch of socialists?). He was asked directly if he felt it was an accidental death.

"No," he replied calmly, "it was definitely murder. No doubt about it. Trollicide most foul." 

There was a collective gasp in the courtroom. Leonard collapsed his head into his hands and I just slowly shook my head. It was definitely one of those days. I'm not certain at what point I gave up and simply resigned myself to my fate, but I suspect it was at the same time I tried to imagine what being eaten would feel like.

Judge Krepke continued her questioning of the coroner, "Please explain how you came to that conclusion."

The dwarf practically shuddered in joy as he answered, "The bloodwork established that the cause of death was poisoning by trollbane, not available in the defendant's realm. King Querg was already at death's door when he stumbled into the human realm and was almost certainly dead before the defendant laid upon him."

There was an agitated buzz spreading through the crowd, increasing in volume until the judge pounded her gavel, "Silence in the court!"

To everyone's surprise, Grimkee suddenly stood and shouted, "Oh, alright, it was me, I poisoned the old bastard! It was time."

The courtroom went silent and Krepke once more pounded her gavel, "In light of this declaration, I find the defendant not guilty and all charges are dismissed."

"Now what?" I asked in confusion.

"Now nothing," Leonard said lightly, "it's over. You're free to leave... to return to the human realm."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," the rotund lawyer replied, "They may be a bizarre society, but they believe in justice."

"What about Grimkee," I pointed at the large troll maiden, who took that moment to turn towards me and blow a kiss before exiting the courtroom, "aren't they going to arrest her? She confessed."

Leonard chuckled, "Good heavens, no. Murder is a perfectly legal means of royal succession among the trolls. I think she just had the hots for you and saw getting you convicted as a means of securing you as a mate."

I tried to imagine my life as Grimkee's boy toy. A deep shudder passed through my body.

The park Ranger escorted me to the portal and back into the human realm. He handed me a compass and showed me the direction back to the familiar comfort of  my concrete world. He looked me in the eye.

"I suppose you think I'm going to tell you not to tell anyone what happened or some such nonsense," he stared deeply into my eyes, "but frankly, I couldn't care less. If you tell anyone they'll just prescribe Thorazine or some other anti-psychotic."

"Yeah," I agreed, "I imagine they would. I'd say thank you, but I'm still processing what happened."

I turned to walk home. He headed back to the portal, muttering to no one in particular, "God, I hate those miserable fairies. I wish I'd have had another dozen bug zappers."

I was soon out of sight of the Ranger, looking toward the hills that stood in the way of my journey back toward civilization. I really hated hiking. Never again.

I found myself oddly unaffected by my adventure. Being a beast of habit, I was soon re-entrenched in my comfortable routines, thankful of civilization and the modern world (I am really quite a boring fellow).

There was a movie I wanted to see and as I made my way to the box office, I saw Susan standing in line. I knew that she saw me, but neither of us wanted to be the first to acknowledge the other's existence, so we did a weird tango through the crowd avoiding eye contact (our relationship had many of these little power plays in one form or another). Finally, as I was always the less petty of us, I walked up to her and forced a smile.

"Susan, how nice to see you. It's been a while (not long enough)."

"Well look at you," she chirped, "You haven't changed a bit (a passive-aggressive insult if ever I heard one)."

"Are you here alone," I blurted out, "or is someone with you?"

She scrunched her face into a contorted self-serving smile, "I'm here alone, but I am seeing this wonderful architect named Norman (leave it to her to include a resume of her suitor), and you?"

"I'm here by myself. You remember I've always enjoyed seeing movies alone... less pressure," I chuckled, "but I have met someone, her name is Grimkee, I met her hiking (that should get her goat)."

"Hiking? You don't hike, at least you never did with me (the look of confusion on her face filled me with a radiant pleasure) and what kind of a name is Grimke?"

"Hiking is my new passion. Grimkee is foreign... old world. She finds me very compelling. She has Royal blood, not that that matters."

Susan sniggered, "And I suppose she's beautiful... a real Angel... unlike me." She was getting a bit angry... perfect.

"No actually she's not traditionally lovely. She's very tall and a bit plain, but a loving heart. I'm surprised that your attitude is so shallow," I tut-tutted in disappointment, "you claiming to be a feminist and all."

This really set her off, I could see that familiar hatred welling up in her eyes. She was so close to exploding, it was marvelous. At the last moment she pulled in her emotions, forced a smiled and actually apologized for her remark (you can't imagine how rare and precious that was to me, like a unicorn farting Chanel number 5). She made some excuse and headed into the movie. I swear I could see steam escaping her ears. It was a glorious afternoon and life was good.

You may well ask if my encounter with the fairy realm changed me in any way, if I had some sort of profound revelation that altered my inner self. Honestly, I don't know. I don't plan on telling anyone, though if I get suitably drunk or high, I have no doubt I'll blurt it out in a desperate attempt to seem interesting.

I do find that knowing what I know is, at times, incredibly satisfying. If I find myself depressed or feeling insignificant, I can look at the people around me and think, I know something none of you will ever know and merely that thought will cheer me up.

But in the long run, it simply re-affirms what I have always thought. None of us have the slightest idea what life is all about. We give it our best guess. Do we seek fame or fortune, do we make children to carry on our genetic pool, do we explore or discover, or do we sit back and simply enjoy the ride? Does the existence of  fairies really matter in the scheme of things or is it just one of those odd facts that signifies nothing. Life is a kaleidoscope of  experience, teetering between the bizarre and profound and the mundane and beautiful. It is a comedy that always ends in tragedy and a tragedy that sings in a glorious aria of hope.

I don't want to overthink this. I will always smile when I recall my time in fairyland and perhaps that is enough. I always check my pillow nowadays, lest Grimkee come  a knocking at my door. I think of the fuck-fairies whenever I hear a bug zapper and I almost always laugh when there is a courtroom drama on TV. Oddest of all, I find myself missing Susan. Life is certainly strange.