Into the vortex they ran, in to an extra-dimensional world where they all wore long tweeds, like it was a 50’s episode of a sci-fi serial. They ran willingly, purposefully, like reporters to a schoolhouse fire; or maybe not ran – can they run here where there seems to be no ground? It looks almost like the floor of a meadow, but it is kinetic, moving clockwise, here, reversing there, ebbing and flowing here and away. It is so strange in here, but then there are familiarities in the beings that suddenly appear, and themselves: the cut of the hair, the harried looks, like hoods on the run. familiar sights indeed, every noir story has them, but what of this setting, what of the vortex?

Perhaps they are to continue in this struggle. Continue to run to assist others, to explore the frightful unknown, to set worry aside and go…go.

As they made the second turn an untraceable sound descended on them, high pitched but full, and a light shot through the space they inhabited. They felt that light surge through their bodies. Then all was black for a moment or maybe a hundred years, and then when they once again became aware, they were floating in a celestial wonderland, until they turned their heads and they were in a 1970’s den, sinking their toes in shag carpet. Elton was on the stereo system. Levon sells cartoon balloons in town. Turning away, they are bathed in the galaxies. turning back, Levon likes his money…

It strikes them that they may have to choose…

–Danny Grosso