Dinosaurs at the Gate
Bollywood wasn’t known for special effects. Rance knew this even while staring at the swirling kaleidescope of color erupting over the Hindu temple fifteen miles north of Pune. Nearly in Rajgurunagar, the producer had chosen it because of its seasonal beauty and nearby, inexpensive extras. Now, through a curved spatial bubble in the air
like the surface of a snow globe slavering carnivores fought to be free.
The sky boiled as keening filled the air. Small lizards scampered through the grasses while Rance, on the third month of his year-long internship, could only stare at the prehistoric monsters.
They were trapped, but for how long?
His cell phone buzzed. Text messages from his friends told him he wasn’t alone. Sealed, primal beasts were clawing at portals world-wide. He texted a reply and saw the bubble waver as he hit “send”. He paused.
He’d gone abroad for something new; the world was too normal.
This was something new.
After a moment, dialing his brother in London, he threw his phone at the rift.