Loud bursts of noise.
Unknown pain, fierce, stabbing, my head.
It all stops without warning.
But one thing is for sure:
I’m not in the Inbetween anymore.
I’m not in the middle of the road, either.
I don’t think I’m in the right century.
Or possibly even the correct millenium.
For where I’m standing isn’t even stable ground. It’s molten rock, quite warm, but thankfully not flaming hot.
And all around is a landscape of fiery, noisy chaos.
This isn’t the world I’m used to. This is a world before my time.
This is a world still in the process of creation.
A world that needs more time to cool on the galactic windowsill.
How the fuck did I wind up here?
How am I still alive?
How is it possible that I’ve travelled back this far? I’ve only ever been able to travel back hundreds, not billions of years.
No time for questions.
Must get back and stop myself from de-icing the road.
And a moment later…
…I’m standing in front of myself.