Ridge Runner -The Road That Pulsed

The Road That Pulsed Like a Nervous Fruit
Behold the Road, that glowing, twitching thing,
which pulsed as if deciding to explode.
Helena strode with Fred and Dave in tow,
three heroes of the “We’ll Figure It Out” Brigade,
marching toward destiny or indigestion.
The air unzipped itself with cosmic flair—
a sound like trousers worn by galaxies—
and out stepped Elias Crowe,
rumpled prophet of the Perpetually Overbooked.
The Herald Attempts Professionalism (Fails)
He waved at the audience—yes, you—
as though he’d forgotten you were real.
“Oh good,” he said, “you’re still observing.
This will make things easier. Or harder.
Hard to determine without charts.”
Helena groaned the groan of someone
who has seen this man monologue before.
Dave muttered, “Fourth‑wall itch.”
Fred whispered, “Is it contagious?”
Elias ignored them with the dignity
of a man who has no dignity left to lose.
The Warning Nobody Asked For
“Turn back!” he cried. “Go home! Make tea!
Knit a sweater! Knit a warning sweater!”
Helena crossed her arms, unimpressed.
“Why.”
“Because the universe is about to get…
experimental.”
Fred brightened. “Like jazz?”
“No,” Elias said, “like surgery performed
by jazz musicians.”
Dave winced so hard his soul cracked.
Elias turned to the audience again:
“You see? They never listen.
I could tell them the next bend contains
a fever dream raised by puppets
who became minor gods with boundary issues,
and they’d still pack snacks and go.”
Helena stepped forward. “We’re going.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“We will.”
“You mustn’t.”
“We must.”
“You’re making this very difficult,” Elias said,
massaging the part of his forehead
reserved for existential migraines.
Dave shrugged. “You warn. We ignore.
That’s the arrangement.”
Fred nodded solemnly,
as if this were a sacred tradition
handed down by confused ancestors.
Who has delivered too many prophecies
to people who treat them like weather reports.
He addressed the audience one last time:
“If any of you know how to make heroes listen,
please write it down and mail it to me.
Address: The Universe.
It’ll find me.”
Then he stepped backward
into the shimmering tear in reality
and vanished with the sound
of a cosmic door slamming shut
on someone’s fingers.
The Road Laughs in Color
The road pulsed brighter,
as if delighted by their poor decisions.
Helena smirked. “Dramatic.”
Dave nodded. “Even for him.”
Fred swallowed. “Should we… consider his warning?”
“No,” said Helena and Dave in perfect unison,
the harmony of doomed confidence.
And so they walked on,
toward the bend where destiny giggled
in a voice made entirely of colors.
Adventure waited—
and it was already in a very good mood.and.

Classical, Neo Folk, Funk, Metal, Techno, Ambient, Whimsical, Mysterious, Epic, Choir, Operatic Vocals, Singing-Rapping (Melodic Rap), Harmonized Vocals, Harp, Violin, Cello, Slow, Spoken Word, Oboe