Dodd stumbled. The portal hissed closed behind him, water on a hot skillet.
He clenched his fingers, felt smooth sand. He stood.
“Where am I?” he said. An indigo sky filled with arcing lights shimmered overhead. An old fisherman sat on the beach.
“You’re in the endless world of thought,” the old man said, twitching his rod. “The lights of all the minds that are, were, and will be shine over us. Anything is possible here.”
Dodd stared down. “And you?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”
The old man gave him a withering look. “I’m fishing,” he said.
The Bucket Rider
4 hours ago