A Little Pocket of Fun

This story (including this statement) has been translated and interpreted from its original language into your local dialect and syntax.
Please note, despite our best efforts some words may not be Translated Acurately, or at all due to the dissimilarities between alien cultures,
customs, and complexities.

“ Rob, I just don't think it's going to work this way. Reflux isn't moving the reaction along far enough to get the desired yield. You've got to remember, if we can, we should preserve the sanctity of the starting structures that we're putting through their paces. If we're going to change them, then let's not waste their contribution.” Sencha said while they twiddled with the stop cock of a burette, they’d just finished cleaning. They were always talking about doing the starting material justice, that we’d come far enough that it wasn’t enough just to try. That it didn’t become what it was for nothing, but rather for everything. And that was something I came to respect.

Where do we start?

Author: Tath

Date: March 26th, 2025

Sencha lives with their partner, Meecha. In spirit, Sencha is like Tom Bombadil meets Lady Gaga on a 18°C day, offering you a cup of ice cold soup, because who wouldn’t want chilly psychedelic soup on a warm sunny day? Meecha called them Sunshine and Sencha just called them Mee. Little red freckles speckled their otherwise plain faces that were ordained with matching sets of thick circular goggles. Crowning Sencha’s head were bright yellow curls that spiraled up into ball like structures, stacked atop one and other like a great bowl of icecream. They each stood about 5 feet off the ground. Though Meecha’s giant yellow afro made them seem like they were at least 5’4. When you met their eyes, they held the look of a world class somebody on their way to win an Olympic gold, or something of the sorts. But in their case, it was more likely they were heading to make the gold and just skip the Olympics all together. Effortlessly, their aura just sooths you the moment you’re in their presence, and then they are offering you tea, and toast with jam, and a generous helping of butter. Oh, and both of them were purple.

Like I said, they were people of sorts, whom I can for sure say both possessed personhood, but they weren't Earth people, and as far as I could tell, they certainly didn't originate on the baby blue, as they sometimes endearingly called earth. They didn’t look human persay, but they also didn’t not look human. They have gentle faces, with less ridges or sharp lines then ours, and their mouths have much thinner lips that conceal a great many sharp teeth behind them. But they helped me, and I'm not one to discriminate against most folk. Especially not ones who pulled me from the ocean, only to bring me back to their camp, feed me, and provide me with a new world. Round here, nothing ever is what you think it is. And so, I may as well just start at the beginning.

It’s a bit of a long story. Me and my partner had a small project that we'd been working on. It had to do with the biosynthesis of various novel tryptamine and ergoline structures using sea sponges. They’re the biologist/biochemist, and I'm the freediver with a knack for organic chemistry. I was out diving alone, though, I’d usually have waited for Lizzy to wake up. It was a normal day to go harvest specimens, when boom! Freak accident, the ocean surged, and I was slammed down into the reef. When I woke up, Sen was sitting on the beach next to my waterlogged, almost corpse, smoking what smelled like extremely sweet weed.

“They’re awake”, Sencha said without raising their voice.

I coughed, and pushed myself up to sitting, which took virtually all my energy. Appearing from the tree line some 10 ft away was a small yellow haired person in very baggy pants that were folded and bunched up at their hips. They carried a small wooden table with legs splayed outwards at 45° angles that held a red clay teapot and three small cups which looked to be made of stone. They sat down between me and Sen, and Sencha’s eyes never raised from the orange horizon, except to turn to Meecha, to kiss their cheek. A small variegated circular coaster and a cup was set next to me in the sand. Besides the fact that I was having trouble telling if I was hallucinating, or dreaming, or even real at all, the presence of two purple people, with soft gentle bodies, that sported no shirts, and florescent yellow hair, offering me tea, was not helping to clarify things at all. Meecha poured the herbaceous water, and the sounds of the familiar ritual panged through my skull. If this wasn't Earth, then at least they had tea.

“So, why am I afforded the opportunity to share some tea with a curious, but rather waterlogged looking stranger?” Meecha asked, sipping their drink from one hand and motioning to me to drink mine with the other.

“Ah, yes, yes! I like that question. That's a good question!” Sencha said, between sips and puffs, still not turning from the setting sun.

The two of them were quite the pair, and that's when I remembered Lizzie. And that I had been out in the water alone, and that I was slammed into that reef. I don't even know what happened............ and why the hell do these two speak English?

I tipped my head to them, coughed, and picked up the tea, which was somehow just the right temperature for drinking. “I’m also curious about how I’m drinking tea on a beach with a couple people who don’t look quite like people?” I asked. And added, “The last thing I remember is being used as a hammer against some very unforgiving nails.”

“Oh, you like metaphors?!” Sencha turned their head towards me, the sides of their long lips rounding upwards in a grin.

“Sunshine loves metaphors, we don't get to hear a lot of them where we're from” Meecha said. “It is quite curious. How would you say it, you fell out of one drink and into another?” they chuckled, refilling their cup.

Sencha added. “Well, we're a little somewhere in between here and there. It's a special place indeed. And even more special, is you sharing tea with us tonight! How very curious indeed. Kind of like that orange sky. The sun doesn't set here very often.” And they turned their head back to the horizon .

“What do you mean the sun doesn't set here very often?” I asked, wiping some drying sand from my face. I felt like my brain was trying, and failing to load, which I chalked up to shock.

“I mean, just that” Sencha answered.

“Well, my name is Robert. And who are you that ‘means just that’? Where I’m from, we introduce ourselves to strangers.” The snarkiness of my voice didn't seem to sway either of them one way or the other. They just sat there, sipping tea, the waves lapping at the shore.

“I’m Sencha, and this is Meecha,” Sencha almost sang Meecha’s name when they said it.

“And do either of you know why or how I got here?” I asked.

Sencha replied “No clue why you're here, but some ideas about how you got here. You can’t be forgetting that why is usually the hardest question to answer. Though, it's not really my business. It's yours.” Again, their lips curled as they replaced the tea with their smoking joint.

Questions about Lizzie came up, but this time with a sense of urgency. Where was she, and was she okay? “My wife, I left her sleeping back at home. I was just off the coast of Maui-” but Sencha cut me off.

“Sorry love. I don't think we’ll be of much help there” Sencha said.

Meecha scooted closer to me and set a small purple hand on mine. It was boney with 6 fingers, and had far too many joints and hinges for me to really grasp just how different it was from my own. Instead, I noticed how alive their hand felt. This was more real than any trip I'd experienced to date. But the touch of the empty Jester Lords in the DMT realms never felt as real as this. As if we were both made of dense molecules who prevented one another from passing through the other. First, my skin shivered in the strangeness of this reality, that they were real, and this was happening. Meecha responded to whatever panged through me by wrapping their hand around mine, and they turned to face me and smiled.

“I hear you. I also lack an explanation for your situation. Maybe for now you can watch the sunset with Sencha and myself and simply focus on how the tea tastes?” They squeezed my hand again. This time, it was genuinely reassuring somehow. Meecha topped my cup, and we sat watching the dancing orange sky, while sipping on green tea that tasted like crisp dew on a cool summer’s morning.

…

At some point I must have fallen asleep, because when I awoke, I was in a soft bed that seemed like it was woven from sticks. And the mattress held onto my body in just the right way. The room was sparsely decorated. A picture of Sencha was hung on the wall, as well as some pictures of places and things that I had no context for at the time. It also seemed surprising just how human this room seemed. There was a lot of humanity here for purple people who seemed to talk almost exclusively in aphorisms.

I brought myself to standing and went to lookout the window. To my surprise, I was quite a ways up in a very, very tall tree. How hadn’t I noticed how tall the trees are? I wrote it off as a missed observation due to waking up on a beach, when I should probably be dead. Oh right, and I met people who weren't humans, so it was fair that I somehow missed this detail, however glaring it was.

The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the surf was calm. From way up here, I could tell that we were somewhere that was like an alcove or a massive lagoon. As far as I could make out, the land curved around a hell of a ways, and I could tell the tree I was in was more then a bit of a walk away from the beach. Green palms were tightly knit into a quilt that the sand was tucked into, and the rhythm of waves breaking on the shore painted a new picture moment to moment. I think I would have been able to appreciate the majesty of it all if Lizzie had been here to share this with me, but as it stood. I was rather scared.

Music drifted into my mind, and images of our first trip together swamped me. My head spun, and I sat back down onto the bed. She took me on my first flight, back when I was just a little surf rat who’d never dreamt of ever going anywhere close to the mainland. Everything I needed, or thought I could ever need, was on that island. But when Lizzy dropped into my little paradise, and her wanderlust called her away to far off places, what I needed was now leaving my island. I remember the same feeling of quickening breath, and light headedness as we were about to take off. The ocean just seemed too big, and too terrifying. But so was the softness of her skin when she squeezed my hand. I felt a little ear bud pressed into my palm, and she whispered to me “This is our take off song, it means were going on an adventure!”, and she looked at me with those eyes that shine like diamonds. I wanted to explore the vastness of the world through those eyes more then I was afraid of anything else in the whole universe .

I caught my breath, rubbed my eyes, and pushed myself to stand. The door to the room was all woven wooden structures as well. Though there were distinct and intricate patterns clearly carved throughout the tangled semi-permanent wall. Walking out into the hallway, the door creaked and closed itself behind me. The hallway wasn't a hallway at all, but more of a banister gilding the edge of the single floor amongst the many outcropping a large atrium. Looking for a way down, I noticed that everything was made of the same tangled wood, there were a few more windows, but no other people, and no stairs or any obvious elevators

Eventually I gave up and just yelled into the open atrium recalling with difficulty the names of my hosts. “Sancho? Macha? Hello?”

My voice echoed through the many floors for a few moments before the pitter patter of feet alerted me to someone rounding the bend.

“Ah! Robert, welcome back! I hope you've not been waiting too long. Here, follow me.”

Meecha had turned the corner and disappeared just as soon as they’d arrived. It wasn't hard to catch up to them. Their legs were quite short even relative to their very short body. They folded their hands over one another and seemed to exude an aura of unparalleled joy. The word engaged came to mind, like they had no internal shutters up, or blinds inside themselves, and you could just see straight into their internal world. Meecha asked without losing stride, “Would you be at all interested in joining us for a nibble?? I've made a cake and some excellent tea to boot!” And they almost hopped out of their own tiny little boots at the mention of steeped leaves and hot water.

“Sounds great, I have a bunch of questions and curiosity's of my own if you'd be willing to entertain them?” I asked. The whole air of casualness here was so comforting. It was unsettling. And I hadn’t noticed till Meecha brought up the topic of food, but I really wasn’t all that hungry.

“Yes, yes. We love a good bit of curiosity around here. I'd be happy to indulge you and I'm sure Sencha will too”.

Meecha walked me through the giant structure showing me that the transitions between floors could be found in the corners. We arrived at the end of a straight hallway that was wide enough to drive a car through, resplendent in ornate carvings throughout the light orange wood. They explained that the symbols I’d seen earlier were like instructions. They pushed open the wall to expose a series of what seemed like hidden staircases. We followed one that led down, around, over, and back inside just to spit us out onto a sunny stone paved area on what I assumed was the ground floor. The more I moved through this place, the less it seemed to be a tree.

Sencha sat, feet up on a tangled wooden table that could seat at least seven people comfortably. They were puffing away at a white and blue ivory sherlock pipe with a gold ring around the bowl, which they promptly sat down on what looked like a pipe holder growing out of the table. Had that been there a moment ago? The space was densely bordered in palms, and other species I'd never seen till that day. Reaching up into the sky about 30ft, soft blues and oranges ran through cream colored bark up to soft puffy treetops that evoked the image of green dandelions. As Sencha spoke, music coming from what seemed like everywhere, quieted, opening space for conversation.

They put their feet down and leaned over to greet me with a big teasing grin, “Ah, Robert! Splendid morning. Yes?” Sencha now looked me in the eye with no reservation. Their gaze was penetrating and heavy, like they could see all the things inside me that I didn't want anyone to see; and they were not offended. It didn’t feel off putting, but I also wanted to look away as soon as I could.

The sky was bright and blue and the breeze in the air was cooling, but not cold, and I sat down across from them, “For not knowing where I am, or what exactly is going on, it could be a lot worse,” I quipped.

“Ah yes, yes! Quiet, quite my lad! It could indeed be worse!”

“Could it?” I asked laughing sarcastically.

Meecha rematerialized from the large doorless doorway with a plate filled with a pound cake, a series of cups, and a blue glossy teapot that they set down on the table. “Ohhhh yes! Of course it could be! You happen to find yourself in good company, and most would say this is essentially paradise for the avid adventurer interested in off brand perplexities, and interesting confundities.”

“So, this,” I motioned around with my hands, “is paradise?” I asked skeptically.

“Well, it is for us! And were pleased to share it with you.” Meecha smiled, taking a seat next to Sencha, passing around cups and plates.

“And where is this paradise? Where am I?” I asked plainly, but firmly.

Sencha answered “That brings up a great question! If you were to ask yourself, why do I consider myself to be here or there at any given time, that would be perfectly logical, and you could define a set of steps that would lead you to how you arrived at that moment. But if you were to ask yourself why you weren't in the places that you aren't now, that would be considered maybe, silly? Or obvious. Unless of course you didn’t know how you got to where you are now. So maybe the question isn't, are we here or there? Perhaps it's better to ask who it is that's here or there. Who, can usually come before how.”

“Pardon me?” I barked.

Meecha smiled, setting down their tea softly. “We are not on Earth,” and they nodded.

Neither of these two were making any sense. “Firstly……that doesn’t make any sense. And second, if we aren’t on Earth, then where are we?”

“Where aren’t we would be much easier to answer,” Sencha said, pouring themselves some tea and then handing the pot over to me.

Meecha added “That is indeed the truth. Though, with your limited knowledge, you don’t really know where we could be, therefor you don’t know where we couldn’t be, and or where that would leave us left to be.”

“But……how are we not on earth? I was in the ocean, then I ended up on that beach last night. Are you trying to say that I am somehow in space?”

“That is a good way of looking at it! You are no longer in the ocean. And this place is sort of like an island!” Sencha said as he pointed his finger upwards as though having the idea for the first time, “But the word space might be a little misleading, and could also lead into an all together different, but very fascinating conversation into the nature of space and its qualifications and quantifiability. But I shall save that for another time perhaps and return to the subject at hand.”

I interjected, “So not Earth, not space. Then I’m dreaming, or tripping…-or something? Am I dead?”

Sencha clapped their hands, and slapped their knees “Ah, yes! Good show, Robert! Right on the nose!” He sat up to retrieve a slice of cake. I remember watching them while the words sank in. They pushed the edge of the funny looking butter knife down, pushing through the milky white and blue marbled glaze. The off yellow interior compressed and bounced back up like a dense sponge. Moments ago, that would have made my mouth salivate a little. But right now, it felt like this image was the only thing keeping gravity abouts me. Slicing the cake. It was simple, and grounded, and happening right in front of me. I could feel the wind, and the sunshine, and I could feel the chair I was sitting on.

From far away, I heard the words come from my own mouth, “But if I'm dead, then what is this? I feel like I'm breathing warm air. Like this is real, and like I'm alive?”

Sencha set down their slice and rubbed both hands together. “Oh, now there's a curious question. What is this? I believe it is a pound cake flavored with some sort of earthy fruit. I believe it's Meesha's favorite” they leaned over the food to inspect it visually.

At this point, it really wasn't funny anymore and I was losing my patience. I grit my teeth and slammed my hand down hard on the table. “This really isn't fucking funny. And if this is some sick joke, then I need you to know that I’m not interested in playing along.”

Anger and fear dominated my mind. I wanted to stand up for myself, but I didn’t even know if this was real, and if it was, then I’m in their playground. But Sencha just sat back, smiled, tore a piece off their slice, and tossed it into their mouth, sitting back into the chair.

“What Sencha is saying isn't wrong, but it's not really the same as giving you the whole story.” They seemed completely unfazed by the outburst and in fact, both laughed.

Meecha continued. “So, this place isn’t easy to describe using words in your language, especially since the humans when you lived have an extremely limited viewpoint of the universe. Not to suggest that you’re less then. Most places are pretty limited when you play the comparison game, but that’s besides the point. Where we are now can confidently be said to be between the gross material plane and the in between. So, in other words, we are before fully being in the in between. And we are not quite completely after the material world, almost like having one foot on land and the other at sea, for lack of a better example. A state of resonance might be a better way to put it.”

I calmly stayed my intensity and listened, though it only really gave me more questions than answers. My thoughts were moving very fast, but my mind was moving too slow to keep up. It felt important to ask the right questions, otherwise I'd be run around backwards and in circles. I couldn’t tell if they were toying with me, or if they just had no idea how to gently tell someone their whole reality is now upside down and inside out, “Alright. Then this place, its not normal, like the astral plane or something?”

Sencha again clapped their hands excitedly, pointing to me animatedly, “Yes, yes, yes! Quick on the front end! This place is not normal at all. And the astral plane, blimey. That’s like saying were on an island in a lake on a bigger island. Which I can assure you, we most definitely, are not. A better simile might be that this place is like a pocket dimension of sorts.”

Not really having any idea what I was supposed to do with that, I suddenly became quite aware they spoke English with a normal inflection as most average people in north America do, but they use British words. “And what the fuck is with all the British stuff without the accent?”

Meecha responded. “We did some very interesting work with a Swiss British human from Earth. We liked the things she said. She'd grown up Swiss but spent her life in England and Sencha just really took to the words as we went along.”

So that means I’m not the first one other then them here, “Is she still here?” I asked.

Meecha responded. “Oh no, not at all. You may be the first one in this specific here. But we've been lucky enough to meet a handful like you.” They both smiled sweetly. I couldn’t be awake, this all felt like a bad dream. “So, if I’m dead, how did I sleep last night?’

“Yes, yes. See, nobody sleeps here.” Sencha said plainly.

Again, Meecha added more context. “You went blank and moved slightly out of phase with our between the in between. The reality is, you're welcome to leave here as soon as you can, but until you can, you won't need sleep. Time doesn't really flow here per say, but the rules are also not particularly intuitive, so. In other words, you were pushed beyond where your consciousness was willing to expand into, and you froze.”

“What do you mean? I can go back when I can......? Is this some sort of prison?” My heart started to race. Was I trapped here is this matrix sort of nightmare. And then Sencha let out a hearty three Ha- laugh.

Meecha continued. “I think you're misunderstanding. You cannot go back, and you are no prisoner. A welcome guest perhaps. But this is no prison.”

“You just said I could go back?!”

“I said you could leave, not that you could go back.” Their face hadn't changed in its disposition. They both sat smiling, both actively enjoying the morning. Or I guess whatever it was that seemed like the morning.

“Okay then. Where can I go?”

Sencha sat forward again. “Once you can leave, then you'll go on to what's next, goodfellow”

“So, I can't leave?”

Meecha just smiled softly. “Not until you can.”

“And when will that be?”

Sencha shrugged. “Couldn't tell ya. That's all your stuff.”

“What is?”

“Your process of becoming.”

I was starting to feel unstable, like I was at the edge of a cliff, and the wind was blowing, and I couldn’t close my eyes, and it was cold, but hot, and I wanted to go home. But I stayed the panic. There was something more important. I closed my eyes squeezing them shut, and spoke.

“Am I ever going to get to go back to Lizzy? Will I ever get to see her again?” a salty tear ran over my lip. I didn’t even realize I was crying.

The feeling of her name rolling off my tongue in this context felt wrong. It felt cold, like my face was numb, and my head was spinning, and like I already knew the answer to my own question. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. We'd only been married for three years. I promised that there’s nowhere she would be able to go that I wouldn’t follow. I mean, we had a whole lifetime left to live. I wasn't ready to hear what already seemed obvious but had to be impossible. I’d gone off somewhere that she couldn’t follow…….my head pounded behind the closed eyes, and I felt a hot flush move over me and a high pitch squeal in my ears that were now covered by my hands. Next thing I remember was waking, again in that same tangled branch bed.

-End of Part 1.-