Start Fiction:
Gerry walked along the river, each step requiring thought; almost a drunken stumble. His head pounded, his balance became more unstable as he moved, breathed. Screams, shouts, whispers attacked his ears, so he thought, from all directions. Darkness, light; day, night spun wildly in front of him.
I have completely lost my mind, he thought. Or at least someone in his head thought.
A loud, ground shaking boom knocked him to the ground. He laid face first in the grass along the sidewalk. The noises, voices and flashes of light seemed to stop. Gerry feared to move.
As he lay there on what he thought to be a warm May afternoon, he tried to gather himself the best he could. He flinched and flexed various parts of his body slowly. He did not want to cause any unnecessary attention from the voices.
Opening his eyes was reserved for last. As he began to relax he knew it was day time, or a well lit area. His eye lids slowly parted and he lay transfixed on what he saw.
The river was purple, lumincent. The grass was not green, but brown; fall grasss. The sky was a lighter version of the purple river.
Gerry raised his head, looking straight ahead. The landscape was familiar; however, the buildings and bridges were different. Different in structure and arrangement. Their materials, architecture was, well, odd. Odd as they seemed, they were magnificent.
Gerry sat up, still facing the river. There was a serenity unlike that which he had experienced before. There were no sounds of anything... anything mechanical. No cars, trucks, air conditioners, fans, blowers. Nothing. Yet, this was as much of a city as he had ever known. A lot cleaner, but a city of substance.
End Fiction.
Not sure what this is... Blah.
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