Sheriff Roy wondered if what he saw was part of some weird fever dream.
The sky above was white as a sheet of paper with no form or shape to anything. Same with the ground below. No scenery was visible. Just white everywhere.
In fact, the only thing more peculiar than the scenery was the young boy standing in front of the Sheriff. Approximately twelve, wearing corduroy pants, a green polka-dotted shirt and a red bow tie, the ginger haired child smiled at Sheriff Roy with a knowing smirk.
“Time,” the boy said, “is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.” Continue reading
