Jimmy lifted himself up on his arms and peered over the tall wooden fence at the dirt that seemed to stretch forever. The dust drifted through the air as the vacancy of the lot continued it’s steady erosion from the wind and hard-baking sunlight. The Vegas air and low humidity didn’t allow for the dirt to ever really settle, then fence kept all trash from blowing into it and the hard ground did not allow for any vegetation to grow. It was a beautifully desolate lot that was untouched by human hand since a time unimaginable to Jimmy. His first thought was that dinosaurs themselves had probably roamed through the lot.
His arms started to shake as he kept his weight bearing down on them to keep himself propped up as he continued to watch the barren land. His mind raced with the possibilities of buried treasure, or pretending to set out on the Orgeon Trail and marching across the vast desserts or even being on a Martian landscape on the dreaded red planet and watching for alien attackers at every turn. The possibilities continued to grow and sprout in his mind. He had found the ultimate playground and only he knew about it.
Finally it felt like his arms were about to crack under the strain and it was getting harder to see as his shakiness obscured his vision and the blurriness caused by the dryness made it hard to see at all, but it really helped to improve his imagination as the “crystallized” patterns in his vision continued to bring new sights into his mind and new stories to explore.
Rocking back and forth he began to swing his leg up, trying to catch it on the top of the fence. After a few tries, he hooked his heal on the point of a fence post and then hauled himself up until he was perched on top. He hesitated. Looking down at the dirt below, he despaired at destroying the fragile ecosystem of such pristine landscape. Once his shoe prints hit that dirt, the imprints would forever change the delicate balance of dunes that pockmarked the entire lot. His mind continued to churn and he wondered if Neil Armstrong’s footprint still dotted the lunar landscape. He could be making the same kind of impression of this ground.
He turned and clumsily wiggled around until his hands were clenched tightly against the ops of the fence points and his feet were pressed onto the surface of the inner wall with his backside sticking out into the air. He still regretted destroying the scenic beauty with his footfalls, but it was time to start exploring. He let go with his hands and pushed off with his feet.
He did not realize that there was a quick downward slope just inside the fence and his drop was a few inches further than what he thought and he felt a twinge of his ankle and heard a small but sharp crack. He winced but after testing it, discovered it was not too bad. While looking around and testing the strength of his ankle, he realized that the inside of the fence did not have the same cross bars that he had supported himself on earlier. He was not sure what kinds of handholds he would have to pull himself back out again but there was time to figure that out later.
He decided at once that the Martian landscape was his best idea and he drew his “blaster” and began dodging through the “dust clouds of Mars” and looking for “green antennae” to stick out.
The barren landscape kept he entertained for a brief time and his mind off of reality.