I'm listening to: Owl City - Vanilla Twilight

The stars lean down to kiss you
And I lie awake and miss you
Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere



I stand facing a sea of dazzling colour. Seemingly that of a projected hologram, tiles that blink and flash chartreuse, mustard, aqua, and a whole multitude of other hues extend their digital sublimity into the horizon to meet the bruised sky. They won't bear my weight - they aren't even material - and yet they can't not.

Standing a few feet away, she beckons to me. I can't tell how old she is. Childlike wonder and innocence juxtapose jarringly against an aged wisdom and complexity, and yet it's a perfectly coherent picture. Her countenance displays an enigmatic cocktail of emotions and exudes an unearthly vibrancy, which I find oddly comforting.

She tells me, "If you take but a single step, it'll bring you to the point of no return, but also that much closer to the other end. What you see is as real as you are, although it might not look like it; upon contact, the two different dimensions you and your landscape each occupy will overlap long enough for you to make your way. Think carefully: you have to cross to the other end eventually, but the journey won't be easy and there's no hurry to get started."

I'm confused; I think I already knew these things. Why is she telling me this?

"You can take along your helmet, baseball bat and teddybear. That's all they'll permit, and that's all you'll need. Try not to look back as you're going, because you won't see anything."

I hug them close to my chest and turn away from her to look at the skyline again. I can hardly believe what I'm about to do. I fill my lungs, feel them struggle against my ribcage, and extend my foot.