Alex always felt that something was missing from his life.
He was an unremarkable, an ordinary person. He had ordinary parents, lived in an ordinary apartment, went to an ordinary school, and, just like everyone else, he had a TV.
As a child, he spent every day, every hour of his life watching TV and reading books. His own life was completely ordinary, so he became obsessed with the fantastical worlds and stories found in fiction.
Sometimes, on his way to school, he would spot a pebble on the ground and pretend it was a magical treasure.
Sometimes he imagined that if he stamped on a puddle with all his might, he might fall into another world.
Sometimes he wandered into narrow alleys between tall, grey buildings, hoping to find a girl surrounded by thugs. He would shout at them, throw a stone, and run… and then the girl would find him, and then…
He had many dreams and obsessions. Some grew so overbearing that he forgot everything else. He would sit on the bench before the staircase leading to his school, gazing at windows that were already lit, dissolving the dark haze of the early winter morning and signaling that classes were about to begin. Yet he remained still, lost in his fantasies. It always took him time and great effort to break free, rise, and head to school. By then, he often forgot his bag, to his deepest regret.
Eventually, Alex grew up. He went to university and earned a degree. He found an ordinary office job and spent his days sitting by the windowsill, where a small cactus stood, gazing outside. Nearby was a school, and on gloomy winter mornings he could see children, burdened with backpacks, slowly ascending the staircase.
After his shift was over, Alex usually went to the bus stop. There, he would begin daydreaming once again. He could have spent his whole life lost in fantasies.
One day, however, everything changed.
Just like always, Alex was waiting for the bus while being deeply engrossed in his thoughts. The world around him was covered in slush and snow, yet in his mind he saw a giant, overgrown robot standing at the edge of a forgotten universe.
Suddenly, the robot opened its eyes, and they blazed with a blinding yellow light.
The bus skidded across the ice and lurched onto the sidewalk.
Alex froze. The bus's headlight was blazing just inches from his face, snowflakes flashing like sparks in its beam.
Alex heard an angry scream. No one was hurt, but people were furious. The driver got off the bus and tried to apologize, but Alex paid him no attention.
He boarded the bus and rode home in silence. Upon reaching his residential area, Alex passed a recently opened grocery store and headed toward the entrance of his apartment building.
After stepping into his flat, Alex switched on the light and froze in the middle of the hallway.
A fiery fantasy was burning inside of his mind; what if the bus had actually hit him and, like in so many similar stories, sent him to another world?
Suddenly, Alex bit his lip. He bit it so hard that it began to bleed.
A tingle of fear crept over him when he realized that, for a moment, he had almost wished for the bus to hit him.
He squatted down and stayed like that, motionless, for a couple of minutes, his jacket and boots covered in melting snow. Then a mangy old dog tumbled out of the closet and began licking his cheeks.
Alex winced and stroked his pet, a mongrel with a long nose and excited eyes that betrayed no hint of its age.
Soon after, Alex went to his kitchen, and the silence of his flat was filled (but not broken) by the crackling of a frying pan.
The following night was sleepless.
It was still dark outside when Alex went out to walk his dog. In the parking lot, people were scraping snow off their cars. Alex watched them absentmindedly as he made his usual round between the playground and the construction site. All the while, he kept checking the time on his phone:
6:33
6:37
He didn't want to be late for the bus.
At last, he tugged the dog's leash, signaling that they should go home. The dog didn't move. Alex winced and stepped closer. Michael—the dog's name—was persistently sniffing a snow‑covered metalic plate.
What's that? Some trash from the construction site?
Suddenly, Alex remembered how, as a child, he would sometimes pick up peculiar pebbles, hoping that one of them might turn out to be a magical treasure that could take him to another world. Of course, he couldn't collect them all, so he constantly wrestled with the unbearable thought that he had already missed his chance.
Alex smiled bitterly and reached for the plate.
His fingers went through.
Alex froze.
The excited dog sat down on the ground.
Somewhere in the parking lot, an alarm went off, but Alex paid it no attention.
He stared at his fingers as they sank into the plate, as if into a pond of liquid silver. He pushed further, and his whole hand vanished beneath the silvery surface.
As if beyond it lay…
…another world.