You got caught.

Either out of curiosity or stupidity, but does it make any difference now? It was impossible not to enter the Teleport. It was pulling you, calling out, and its radiance was so inviting.

And you entered, of course.

A bright light. Blind fear.

Vibrant colors.

A world straight and smooth.

But the Alien Mind immediately felt the invasion.

The hunt began.

You rush into an unfamiliar darkness just to hide from the unbearable light and its permeating gaze.

You wander through the dark, the cracks, the corridors, the labyrinth.

Hunger.

The smell of food is so tempting. Yet you miraculously escape the trap.

But then there are more labyrinths, slots, and corridors.

How long have you been here? A day? Two? Is it ever going to end?

Here comes that smell again. The smell of food. You are starving. Looks like there is no danger anymore. The smell is driving you mad.

Forgetting everything, you greedily start eating. Then you strike against something in the shadows. An invisible brace falls with a chime, and the next second you are inside a large, transparent bubble. This is the end.

***

One evening, a mouse decided to settle down in my home. Not a purebred, just a simple house mouse.

I’m not an expert on mice, but as far as I’m concerned no purebred creature would ever descend to crawling along an apricot branch to the first-floor window.

Well, at least I doubt it.

But a mutt is a different story.

It jumped from the branch and froze on the window ledge.

It’s funny. Its beady eyes are looking at me as if asking, "What are you staring at?"

What’s what? I live here…

The imposter busily slipped into the bowels of the couch.

And at this point I began to regret letting the mouse move in.

I decided to find a way to get rid of it.

Destroying the furniture and leaving the apartment like it had witnessed the London Blitz was lazy. And if any harm came to the mouse, all it would lead to is some Greenpeace curse for all the trouble I would have gone through.

That's why I made the "A Humanist’s Dream" mousetrap from a jar and coin. I put it behind the sofa, loaded it with a single grape, and went to sleep.

In the morning, I discovered my engineering genius proved weak against the mouse’s skills. There was no grape or even a thank you note in the trap.

The mouse wasn't there either.

It didn’t frustrate me much though. I simply moved the jar to another place, loaded the trap with cheese instead of a grape, exchanged the coin for a smaller one, and went to work.

This time the operation was a success. The gray imposter was running in circles around the inside of the jar. I left it trapped inside for a couple minutes to teach it a lesson.

The small furry miracle was standing on its hind legs and driving its pointy nose into the glass, its heart pounding like a tiny motor.

I carried the jar to the street, walked into the thick grass, and released the mouse into the darkness.

***

The motor in the chest is still churning wildly. You look side to side dumbfounded. It’s night again in the same place. Native smells and sounds are accompanied by the belated realization of what happened. The heart is filled with an aching joy.

Alive.

Free.

After all, the Alien Mind was too lazy to destroy the furniture, and he was afraid of Greenpeace. If you tell your people, then another madman who no one believes will appear.

You cast a farewell glance at the radiant Teleport and silently disappear into the grass.

***

It ate my cheese, though. I’ve suffered a loss.