Foston Slacks - Time's Flies

3

Clara looked around, becoming used to the crack and smash of the lightning, although, more than once, the strikes hit far too close for her liking. Not that it really mattered anyway, considering this was all some drug induced fever dream. Still, she would prefer her feeble, fevered mind to imagine the lightning strikes a little further away. If it wasn't too much trouble.

Her visual reconnaissance of the area revealed nothing she could sit down upon. She checked again, in case something transformed into a chair, or a settee, or, if she could choose what her hallucination came up with, one of those chaise longue things with the arm only on one side. The kind she could recline upon in some sexy fashion. Though why she was thinking about doing anything in a sexy fashion considering her current predicament, she didn't know.

The hallucination of a humanoid lemur politely coughed and wobbled back and forth upon the heels of his exquisite Italian shoes, pretending that he really didn't have anything better to do with his time and, please, crazy lady, you just take all the time in the world. He doesn't mind. No. Really. It's no trouble at all.

"Right. Yes. Questions. Absolutely." She thought for a second, tapping a nail on that one tooth that emerged from her gums at that peculiar angle. "Alright. Questions. Questions. Questions."

"Yes, I think we've established you can ask any question you want." The lemur tucked a hand into his pocket and waited with an expectant and slightly amused look.

"Alright. Here goes." With a flash of inspiration, Clara launched a finger in the air. "Have I pulled a blinder with my unruly hair, or is it a complete disaster with too much hairspray on it?"

"Really?" He looked disappointed. "With everything going on, that's your first question?"

"Yes. Well ..." She felt a little self-conscious now. Was he stalling with his answer, just so he didn't destroy her ego? Oh, god! It is! The hair is a disaster! "Please! If I'm going to be carted off in an ambulance in a drug addled state because I've been screaming at a lamppost thinking it's a six-foot tall lemur, I need to know I'm not completely embarrassing myself."

The lemur scrunched up his face apologetically, shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands in mock surrender. Bastard. He could have been more subtle!

"Right! Fine!" She threw her hands in the air, turning away in frustration. "That's all I need! Late for the interview. Laughed at by taxi drivers. Going mad in the street. Hair a complete mess and ... and I bet these shoes, these ruined shoes, probably don't even go with this skirt and jacket!"

"I'm sorry. Are you not actually aware of what's going on here?" The lemur twirled his raised fingers in the air, indicating their surroundings. "Do you not see any of this? The lightning? The red skies? No? Maybe the yellow water under your feet rings a bell? Hmmm?"

Clara looked around. Of course, the lemur, being a figment of her chemically compromised mind would know exactly what she was seeing. That wasn't so unlikely. He had been, however, brutally honest about her hair and, if it was something conjured up by whatever it was Linda had spiked her with (Bloody Linda!), he would have told her she looked fabulous. Or would he?

"Are you saying this is real?" She took a step back. That didn't seem enough, so she stepped back again. She furrowed her brow. "Are you saying I'm not actually in London?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Now two hands were in his pockets. He seemed disturbingly relaxed about all this.

"So, you're saying, and correct me if I'm wrong, that this, as mad as it is, is real?" She wondered if she should step back again, or whether the third step would be overkill.

"It is, most definitely, all real." There was that amused look again. Clara wondered if he thought she was funny. And not in a stand-up comedy way.

"Really real?"

"So real."

"Huh." She looked down at her feet with the yellow, viscous liquid seeping into her shoes, ruining the new tights she'd bought for this interview. The interview she was so far beyond being late for, she might even be close to catching up to the next interview she could be late for. "And you're really a lemur?"

"For the moment, yes." The lemur jerked his arm out, lifting the sleeve of his incredibly well made jacket, turned his hand over and checked his watch. He raised his eyebrows.

"Shut up!" She found herself giggling. She tried to stop, but that only made her giggle even more. "What do you mean 'For the moment'? Haven't you always been a lemur? Oh, my god! Are you like something from a super-hero movie? Did you used to be human and got caught in an accident in a lab, or something, and got changed into a part-human, part-lemur hybrid? Do you have super powers?"

"I ... what? No. It's complicated, not stupid." He looked at his watch again, impatient now. As if he regretted giving her the opportunity to ask questions. "I change. Sometimes. Right now, I'm a lemur. Four months ago, I was a gecko. Before that I spent a year as an abstract sculpture."

"An abstract sculpture? What was that like?" Without realising it, she had stepped forward, her interest piqued. She didn't like that. Still didn't feel comfortable about it and stepped back again.

"Well, once I worked out all the angles, it was fine." He dipped his head, placing his tongue in his cheek. Waiting.

"I'd have got bored of that." He rolled his eyes and Clara got the impression she'd missed something. "So, how do I get back to London? I know the interview's gone for a Burton, but I might still be able get some shopping in before the depression stage hits."

"Ah. Well, that's where things might be a teensy bit problematic." There goes that scrunched up apologetic face again. Clara decided she didn't like that face. "To get back to London, we're going to have to take the scenic route."

"What do you mean?" She wondered if she should be angry. She wasn't certain, but she became angry anyway. Just in case.

"You see, that Breach that got you here, it was what we call a Free Roamer." She gave him an angry, blank stare until he continued to explain. "It's a Breach that comes and goes. Not always in the same place and never opens up to anywhere local. To get back, we have to go through several, more stable Breaches."

"You keep using that word. 'Breaches'. Breaches in what?" Despite how she came across to people, Clara was, in fact, not an idiot. When she put her mind to things, she could be quite clever.

"In space, time, dimensions, reality, universes. The Breaches can lead to pretty much anything." He raised his head, thinking. "Except Chiswick. There's never been a reported Breach in Chiswick. No-one knows why."

"Look! Forget Chiswick ..."

"Everybody does ..."

"Can you get me home, or not?" Yep. She definitely needed to be angry. Possibly angry enough to be a bit miffed.

"Yes! Probably. Oh! Look at that!" With a 'ping' from his watch, the lemur looked at it and grinned. "Another Breach should be opening right about now."

"You mean that thing?" Clara stared at a blueish/greenish wobble in the air behind the lemur.

"You can see it?" Now he looked shocked, especially when she pointed to the wobble in the air and nodded. "Oh dear. That does complicate things. What colour is it?"

"A bluey/greeny type of nothing colour." The lemur stepped back, away from the wobble in the air. He put his hand his pocket again and looked down at her, a curious, considered look in his eyes.

"Damn. Ah, well. Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Come on." Without any warning, whatsoever, the lemur grabbed Clara's hand and dragged her into the wobble in the air.