Lost and Found: a story in 60 seconds

“Not all who wander are lost.” --- Lewis Carroll

A young traveler—tired, hungry, and weak—had been walking along the same dirt road for days. He labored up a nearby hill, hoping to find a tree under which he could rest. But when he reached the top, he saw an even greater sight: plumes of smoke and, beyond that, the faint silhouette of civilization.

He sprinted down the opposite side of the hill but, in his haste, tripped over his shoes. As he dusted himself off, he heard the sweet echoes of laughter. Looking up, he saw a beautiful maiden staring back at him.

“Well, hello,” she chirped. “Are you alright?”

The young traveler couldn’t believe his eyes. “Yes, of course,” he stuttered. “Just working on my tumbling. Never know when one might need to make a quick getaway.”

The maiden giggled again. “Don’t I know it…I can’t go an afternoon without being asked for my hand in marriage. Maybe the next time a man approaches, I’ll simply summersault by him.”

The traveler stood up and smoothed his tunic. “Well, how about we tumble to the nearest tavern? I haven’t had a bite to eat or drink in two moons.”

All of a sudden, the young woman’s expression spoiled.  

“Oh, dear…” she whispered, gazing just beyond the ridge. “You must get out of here…now!”

“Why, what’s the…”

Then he saw it: a man on horseback thundering toward them. The traveler turned to run, but it was too late; the giant steed cut him off.

“Who are you?” the rider demanded, drawing his sword.

The traveler stood his ground. “I was merely asking the lady to direct me to the nearest tavern. Is that such a crime?”

“How dare you converse with a highborn maiden,” the rider spat. “I ought to flay your hide and leave you for the crows!”

“—But that would fail to befit a man of your noble standing,” interrupted the young maiden.

The rider considered the objection. “The lady speaks wisely,” he finally concluded, sheathing his blade. “No point in dirtying my good silks this early in the morn.”  

“However,” the young maiden spoke up again. “I do agree that my honor has been sullied, and I believe there is only one way for which to reclaim it.”

“And what is your proposal, my lady?”

“A foot race,” she cheered.

The young man glanced concernedly in the lady’s direction, but she refused to meet his gaze.

“If that is your wish,” the rider said with a slight bow. He then removed his scabbard and vest and looked at his opponent. “If you lose—wanderer—you shall be banished from this town under penalty of death. Understood?”

The young man nodded, and the two lined up, with the maiden standing behind them.

“I will count to three,” she said. “You must run up the hill and back. I will declare whoever reaches me first the winner.”

Both men nodded once again.

“Okay,” she inhaled. “One…two…”

Eager to impress the maiden, the nobleman jumped early and charged forward with all his might. He ascended the hill with ferocity and vigor, but when he pivoted to return, he saw no one trailing in his wake. Instead, he glimpsed the tail end of his regal steed, galloping off into the distant sunshine with a pair of riders bouncing along its back.   

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