Elliot opened his eyes in a familiar meadow. The smell of wet dirt, sweet and heady, greeted him. Fat rain droplets sat on the green, red and blue leaves of the brush nearby. That was always a sure sign he'd entered Tirn Aill. Some called it The Other World, a fitting name, since it seemed to for those other than humans, the fey. It was surprising how a few chemical differences in a dimension could spawn an entirely different world, with different creatures, plants, and histories.
However, the similarities were just as disturbing as the differences. There was the creek he could see out of his kitchen window, with all its familiar bends, disappearing into the horizon. Near it was the oak tree--except, in this world, its hue was a dark, dark blue.
He'd made sure to move to an isolated place like this, so when he made the journey, he wouldn't wake up in danger...
YOU ARE READING
The Dark Hour
Short StoryElliot got his things in order; straightening a picture frame and flicking off the lights, lifting his occasionally to look at the clock as its hand approached one o'clock. His fingers arched against the side of his thigh. While he'd been making th...
