MARFA, TX — A coyote you have been in animated conversation with for the past ninety minutes has, in the past several exchanges, begun to gently express what he described to you as “a little bit of concern, honestly,” regarding your recent peyote intake and the trajectory of the evening as a whole.
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The coyote, who introduced himself earlier as Terrence, initially engaged with you on a wide range of philosophical topics, including the nature of memory, the American West, and a moving personal anecdote about his mother. In recent minutes, however, his tone has shifted.
“I don’t want to make this weird,” Terrence said. “But you’re kind of, like, sweating a lot. And you keep asking me if I’m real. Which — I mean, I appreciate the question. It’s a good question. But you’ve asked it eleven times.”
You told Terrence that you were fine.
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Terrence looked at you for a long moment.
“Buddy,” he said gently. “You’re sitting in a creek.”
You had not previously noticed that you were sitting in a creek. The creek was cold. The creek had, at some point, become your surroundings. Terrence was standing on a small flat rock nearby, his tail curled neatly around his paws, watching you with what you now recognized as genuine, unmistakable, cross-species concern.
“How much did you take,” Terrence said.
You told him.
Terrence closed his eyes briefly.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay. That’s — okay. Let’s just, like, get you out of the water first. Can you stand up. Do you know where your shoes are.”
You did not know where your shoes were.
Terrence sighed. It was a long, patient sigh, the sigh of a creature who had been having a genuinely enjoyable philosophical conversation and now found himself, without warning, in a completely different kind of evening.
“Alright,” he said. “Alright. We’re gonna figure this out. Just — stay with me, okay? Look at me. Look at Terrence. Do not look at the moon.”
You looked at the moon.
“Do not look at the moon,” Terrence repeated, more firmly.
Your car keys are, sources confirm, at least four miles away. Your phone is at 3% battery. Terrence has offered to walk you back toward what he believes is the road, though he has clarified, more than once, that he is a coyote and that his sense of “the road” is somewhat different from yours.
Also, he added, he is not real.
You have not yet fully processed this.