Ian walked into the living room and noticed a silence in the air that should have been filled with jubilation and excitement. Christmas felt like it was already over, the kids were sitting next to each other on the couch with their VR helmets as if nothing ever happened. Wrapping paper was strung about the room as if a tornado came through and left the inhabitants in the state of a euphoric coma. Hayley had drunk all the hard cider and was probably hiding from the kids in the bedroom, exhausted from all the whining and her own husband’s need to help her build the treadmill that he bought her. The pieces and the instructions were still lying on the ground .

He watched the two kids on the couch and imagined how easy it would be to rob their house right now if he wasn’t there. Looking around he picked up loose wrapping paper and tossed it in a pile. He started to wonder if he got everything he wanted and remembered he only got a few pairs of socks, a coffee mug, a socket set, and some body wash. Anything was better than nothing he supposed.

He sighed and remembered the electric scooter on the floor. The sideways skateboard looked dangerous. It was something he didn’t ask for and would likely forget about by next year. Ian contemplated how many gifts were given over the years that he forgot about. But then he remembered he was forgetting them even now. Hayley had gotten him a toy doll he had when he was a child and it was sitting on the TV stand. It wasn’t a replica either, this was the real deal. This doll had not aged well, with its matted fur and colorless eyes. Despite it being the worst looking of his gifts it meant more to him than the others.

He smiled and was about to pick it up when his foot touched the platform of the scooter. His equilibrium snapped away from him as he fell forward into the big screen TV. Shutting his eyes and expecting the worst he saw stars before realizing that he was still falling. When he opened his eyes again the living room was gone and he was surrounded by darkness and adrenaline. His heart raced as he fell further and further down as if he had fallen into a cosmic rabbit hole. Or he had gone blind and was somehow still wobbling on the scooter.

When he hit the ground there were more stars and as he came to, he saw that he was in another world entirely. He stood in the smoky rumble of a miniature town. At his feet were what appeared to be small buildings. They came up to his knees but were covered in sot and dust. For miles in every direction were the remains of other buildings and demolished structures. The air seemed to be covered in a sickly paleness. Even the sun was muted in the sky.

“Wha…where?” he said aloud, feeling like he had fallen into a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. He groaned as he stood, realizing he landed on his back and feeling the sudden pang as his nervous system reacted.

A tiny voice echoed below, “Hey there, big fella. You mind traipsing around somewhere else? You done killed my pa.”

Ian looked down in a haze and almost apologized until he saw the figure standing on a small, exposed wood beam. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped. He was looking at a cartoon character, about the size of a doll, wearing a cowboy hat and spurs.

“The name’s Cowpoke Burgerton. Friends call me Pokey. I know you’re a little discombobulated but you can’t just go around landing on houses and killing folks.”

“Where…what is this? Did I hit my head?” he spoke out loud to no one in particular. A small crowd of cartoon creatures and mascots were gathering around the destruction of where his body had fallen.

“You bastard!” squawked a red bird who was looking at the devastation.

“I’m sorry!” said Ian instinctually. “I don’t know where I am or what’s going on.” He stepped back onto the two-foot-wide road where the crowd was starting to gather and tried to avoid them by taking two steps further back. A moment ago, he was standing in his house, now he was standing in a field of toy houses, all dark gray and miserable looking.

“You’re in Nostos. You must’ve been forgotten like the rest.” a humanoid donut creature was walking towards him from the others. It had a comically round mouth; its voice was like something 90s advertisers thought young boys sounded like. “My name’s Dunkers and this is Birdbrain and Chang the Rice Bandit. We used to be real important back in the day and sold all kinds of crap to people like you. But then people forgot about us and we ended up here. Or we got too offensive for most consumers. Change for example–” Dunkers patted a mascot on the arm. Chang, with his buck teeth and rice hat, did appear to be obscenely stereotypical.

“But how the hell do I get out of here?”

The group of animals and humanoids gasped in unison and started to mutter to each other. Ian turned to look over the horizon and only saw more dust and mire stretching into nothingness.

An overweight man in a chef’s outfit pushed through the cartoon mob and with a thick Italian accent said, “Mamma mia! You can’t just come here and kill our little paisanos and then use that language with us! You must be as drunk as a monkey! You need to go and speak with Lord Nostos. He’s the one who brought you here. It was probably that bad attitude of yours!”

“I’m sorry, where is Nostos?” he didn’t have time to ask what he really wanted, like: How the hell did I get here? Did I take any drugs today? Were all mascots this small? How the hell did any of this exist in the first place? He was being pushed at the shin by the mob and decided that he didn’t need any answers.

As he turned to run away, he realized he made massive strides away from the crowd and found his way over a mound of what he thought was garbage. He took a tumble on the other side and fell down the heap. When he came to the bottom, he discovered that he was lying on old cell phones, tablets, and smart home devices. He read the labels. They were older devices, some a few years old but there were multiples of each. It suggested that these were the trashed older models of the year’s current ones. He looked up and saw that the trash pile stretched beyond the horizon. The land itself was made of old abandoned machines, ranging from workout equipment to kitchen appliances to computers and game consoles. He couldn’t have cared as much if he hadn’t been responsible, at least partially, for some of this mess.

It had been a tradition to get Hayley a new phone every year on Christmas. And every year he followed suit, knowing exactly what she wanted. This year he almost refused, claiming they didn’t have the money but he did it anyways. He knew that if he didn’t then she would have a hissy fit or someone else who would. The kids wouldn’t leave him at least, or would they, if Hayley found someone else? He didn’t have time to think about it though. He was now in a garbage wasteland with no clear way home.

The musky fog opened up; the haze drifted away. Ahead a roadway appeared, or maybe a ditch, where the piles of outdated technology had been parted like the Red Sea. He looked back at the hillside where the mascot town, watching for any hostile toys or bird creatures. No one seemed to be following and he lowered his head in defeat. He half-expected one to come rushing out but of course, the chances of anyone wanting to be around him were slim.

He completely lost track of time. Had it been three hours? Two? Half a day even? Walking alone was something he had been used to. He did when Hayley needed some space and when he would take the kids and dog to the park. The dog and kids would run off on their own and he would be left to his own mind, his own voice. He had been used to it and he didn’t really care to change it. For once at least he could have peace and quiet. But this eerie landscape of trash and bleakness made him question why he found peace in solitary walks.

The fog dissipated further and he found that the ground had become dark sand. To his right there was a massive face made of stone. He stepped back, almost in awe, if it weren’t for the smears of black muck. The fog languished further revealing the body of the statue which was partially sunken in the dark sand. It was a gentle face, a woman’s face. As the landscape became clearer Ian saw a field of statues. Some appeared to be roman, others were Egyptian or even more rudimentary stone visages. It was a graveyard of ancient gods and goddesses, long forgotten. He couldn’t identify any of them. 

Further off in the distance he could make out a small grouping of shapes standing or perhaps kneeling in front of a large totem, the biggest of the forgotten statues. It stretched into the gray sky. He made his way to the base and saw that the shapes were people bowing to the tall structure, their hands were in constant reverence to the unrecognizable god depicted in the totem. He saw that each layer of the totem was a different face, each layer becoming more detailed and less primitive. At the top was a smiling, middle-aged man wearing sunglasses.

He smirked and tried to get the worshipper’s attention. “Excuse me? Does anyone know where I can find the exit? I’m trapped here and I need to get back. My family needs me.”

All of the robed figures stood, some taking their time, and turned to face him. They were regular people with regular expressions of ragged, blind devotion. Ian imagined they had been here for some time and didn’t have a shower, judging from their smell.

“You wouldn’t be here if your family needed you.” came a smooth, male whisper. The statue’s base undulated as if the stone itself was a shroud. A form took shape and walked out of the stone. The man, if he could be called that, was enshrouded in a black vale and had a reflective face mask.

Ian stood with his mouth open, dreading to know what the god looked like under the mask. “Hi uh…Are you Nostos?”

“I am.” said the shawled figure. “And if you are here then you’ve become truly forgotten. Humans have survived by refusing to remember the things they deem unnecessary and so, you are here.

His heart sank. He thought of his wife’s face and saw her walking to the kitchen, oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t there. She had told him once that he was unforgettable. Now he saw that she never really meant it. It hurt to think that someone he would never forget had forgotten about him. He thought he was important. He thought he meant something but in reality, he did not.

But then a bulge in his pocket made him look down and….remember. “This was a mistake. It’s my fault that I was brought to this place but I don’t belong here. My family may have less affection for me as of late but that doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten me. But I can’t blame them. I should have loved them more; I should have been emotionally available but I wasn’t. They were only reacting to my sadness, a sadness that came from my desire to be young again.” He took out the bear doll and held it with both hands. “To be something that I’m not anymore and to be something I should have abandoned a long time ago.”

Nostos contemplated this, giving a sideways glance and seemed to nod in agreement. He reached out a hand to Ian. “Your trade is acceptable. I will accept this object of nostalgia and return you safely to your home.”

Before he could even say thank you, he was lying on the floor of the living room with a terrible pain on his head. He checked his hand for blood and saw that his daughter and son were staring at him in surprise. Hayley had rushed into the room and came over, holding his head.

“Are you OK?” she asked. The kids came next and leaned over his wife.

“I’m fine.” he didn’t recall how he managed to bump his head or remember anything about the place he had been, or about the teddy bear that had been sitting on the TV stand, that was now gone. He only heard a voice in his head, his own voice, saying the same phrase over and over: “It’s time to grow up.”