At seventy five miles per hour, the car loses traction with the wet road and runs straight into the ditch. You, my friend, are knocked unconscious, from the blow to your head. However, you don’t realize this. Instead of impenetrable blackness, you see haze. You drift through this thick fog for what seem a few eternities. Then it clears, and you are standing on an empty street of some unknown city. You feel as if you have been here before, yet cannot recall any sort of physical memory of the place. You walk through the city, taking in the sights. The only sound you hear is the distant murmur of a television set. There was sort of a dim lighting in the city, as if the sun were in an eternal twilight. The architecture of the buildings are sort of a amalgamation. On one street, you may see modern buildings looking down upon you, another would find you staring at old Gothic structures, and yet another street would have
you witnessing the integration of the two together. You decide to duck out of the main streets and explore the alleys more fully. A maze of dark passages through the larger buildings is soon revealed to you as you try to navigate through the narrow alleyways. Navigating through one of these lanes, you come across a door set in the side of the building in which you were walking along. It was tall and made of oak. You try the handle, and when you find it is not locked, no hint of surprise creeps into your head. Standing there in the doorway, you get a feeling that is slightly more familiar than that which was given off by the city outside.
You turn the knob, and walk inside. 