You are once again at the edge. In That place between rooms. Between moments. between worlds. Between waking and whatever it is we do the rest of the time. Behind you, reality, or a very convincing impression of it. Routine. Logic. Passwords that expire before you understand them. Ahead of you is the world we don’t talk about. The other place, the world of the imagination. The one that hums behind your thoughts like a creepy uncle that we don't like to let out when there are people around.