Note to a Stranger
by Davian Aw
We met in the space the mundane shops go, in those unscheduled moments when others take their place and old Uncle Joe popping by for a snack finds the 7-Eleven replaced by Maerlyn's Magick Shoppe.
When the 7-Eleven went, I went with it. The air grew rich and heady with magic. Chocolate bars and packaged nuts jostled each other on the shelves. The Slurpee machine twirled out sigils behind its glass. The spare change on the counter took flight in dance, gleaming in the golden light flooding through the windows.
Across the misty fog that swirled above the sepia landscape, I looked out from the doorway and I saw you standing there. You were adrift on an islet of reality across the amorphous plane: strikingly normal in your work uniform, looking out from the storefront of your chain bookstore, Christmas sales splashed on huge red posters (UP TO 70% OFF!!!) as though anyone there in that strange new world might be lured in for a look. There was snow gathered at the window's edge. I wondered what country you were in.
You waved, and I waved back. You smiled, and I fell in love.