Beyond the Pale

Ataxia

Bright daylight blinded her. She shielded her eyes with her hand and stepped into the doorway.

Penny stood on a bustling street corner unlike anything she had ever seen before.

A man with skin bluer than any sapphire rushed past, a top hat perched precariously on his head.  A bright green double-decker rolled past, the top deck crowded with all types of creatures. A woman on the top with iridescent wings smiled at the pedestrians, her long silver hair rustling in the wind. An old woman with a hunched back and scaly arms gave Penny a dirty look as she hurried by.

Penny stared in wonder at the street she had stepped into. The cobble-stone road was clogged with bikes and tiny, old-fashioned automobiles that chugged and farted clouds of black smoke. Vendors on the opposite side hollered their goods, juggling ripe fruits and rolls of bread as their tails curled and uncurled behind them.

Penny could hardly take it all in. Every color was a hundred times richer and brighter than anything she had ever seen, exloding with brilliance. In her washed out dress she felt like a dreary pigeon among a flock of jungle birds.

If she had taken a moment to truly examine the street, Penny would’ve noticed that the cobble-stones were being overtaken by moss and stones were falling free; and that the tall buildings on either side had many chunks missing, with brown ivy creeping up their sides. If she was native to this world, she would’ve noted how the colors, though richer than ours, were more dull than usual, and the normally friendly behavior of the citizens had been replaced with hostile remarks and suspicious glances. But, as Penny was neither native nor observant, she noticed nothing of those sorts, and was contend to be amazed.

Penny stood half-hidden in the doorway, absorbing the strange sights before her. “Am I dreaming?” she whispered, wide-eyed.

“You, girl!”

Penny looked up. A large double-decker had stopped in front of her, exploding clouds of smoke. The driver was leaning out the door, staring at her impatiently. He looked normal, grungy, with a dusty gray cap on his head.

Penny glanced around her. “Me?”

“Yes, you! Who else would I be talking to?” When she remained where she was, he flailed his arms about. “Well, what are you waiting for? Come on, now, we haven’t got all day!”

“Of- of course,” Penny stuttered, and rushed to the bus. The driver hurried her up the stairs to the top deck. Only when he turned around did Penny notice the short spiky tail sticking out of his trousers.

Penny faced the row of seats. Almost all of them were taken, filled with dozens of different types of creatures. They all stared at her. Blushing, she made her way down the aisle, looking for a seat. She carefully stepped over a purple tentacle that had wormed its way out of someone’s bag.

Finally, Penny found a seat towards the back of the bus, next to a kind-looking old man. He had a long, white beard that puddled in his lap. When she sat down, he looked up and smiled politely. Penny noticed that his pupils were square, like a goats. She tried not to stare.

“Good day,” she said.

“Good day.”

The bus lurched forward unsteadily. Penny grabbed the edge of seat to keep from falling.

“If I may ask, sir, am I dreaming?”

The old man grinned, showing several missing teeth. “You may be. But aren’t we all?”

Penny frowned and thought about that. “I suppose,” she said slowly. “What I meant was, where are we?”

“We are in Ataxia, my dear.”