Reality bent and twisted: from the moment I stepped into the passageway to the second I was out on the other side, I felt like a huge mistake had been made as my body felt like string cheese being twisted and pulled along obscene angles. In a snap, though, it was all over: the universe rapidly expanded and then hurriedly shrank and then spit me out after pulling me like a pretzel.

I barfed. And vomited some more. I let the world stop spinning before rising to my feet and just sort of . . . spending a minute orienting.

On my head, meanwhile, the cat-creature known as Felix was purring; he, evidently, enjoyed using these passageways.

First time’s always a thing and a half, eh, buddy? Felix the cat-creature remarked playfully.

“Yeah,” I croaked, still feeling out how my body worked post-entanglement.

I moved slowly. Looking around at my new surroundings, which somehow surprised me, even though I knew it shouldn’t since I had no reason to think that the ghost’s passages wouldn’t work, I appeared to be in a rundown house. An abandoned house, more specifically. As I slunk through the halls of this place, I eventually heard moaning. Stupid me thought it was more ghosts— but no, it was just some guy giving a sex worker the old stiffy. That kind of moaning.

After the “couple” yelled a slur at me to keep me moving, I realized belatedly that I and the cat-creature had been transported to some kind of crack house. Or at least an abandoned place used by the societal disenfranchised. Obviously, I did not linger before making a beeline for the backdoor: the back because I did not want to risk getting involved in anything by leaving the front. Wherever we were, after all, was probably not the best neighborhood.

Cutting into the backyard and through the lot of another abandoned building, I was back on the sidewalks. Looking around, I did not recognize the area . . . obviously, a part of town that I had never been to where the poorest of the poor lived; I was no Rockefella myself, but even my meager wages from working full time at a grocery store was at least enough to keep me out of these slums.

“Okay, where are we going, catto-with-wings?” I muttered under my breath before remembering that the creature can read my mind so I do not have to speak aloud.

Going to the center of the town . . . wait, well, no. The corner store. Well, next to the corner store. The plant place.

I wasn’t amused with my new associate’s choice. He meant the little arboretum next to the 24-hour mart. It was in the middle of a sketchy part of town where known criminal elements hung around and was on the news more than once lately and for less than ideal reasons; the shop owner sure as heck wasn’t winning any community awards.

“Fine,” I replied back, “but let’s get in and out. Not the greatest area to linger if you don’t want any trouble.”

Jeesh, the creature-of-cat-and-fly said back, you sure are milquetoast middle class, bro.

“What do you want from me, Felix?! I am not—”

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Do. NOT. Call me by that name unless I give you permission, mortal.

And then, silence.

I didn’t think I did anything wrong, but I guess he was sensitive about me using his name. Obviously.

Hardly my fault, I thought. The creature which burst into my apartment hours ago hasn’t exactly shared loads of information with me about the wild ride I began. All him, all the time. Not as much as even a thank you.

In time, mortal. But we are here. And lucky for us both, none of your gangbanger trouble-makers are nearby; slink into the flower shoppe.

Easier said than done . . . unless, no, I just have to walk inside. Apparently, this flower shop is also a 24-hour mart. Somehow, for some reason.

“Okay, we are inside the flower shop, now what? Are we going to buy some roses for our dearly departed woman of the night?”

Shut up and follow my words. Pass by the counter and ask the clerk where the best smelling flowers are located.

“Hey man,” I said to the older man manning the clerk counter and who was also giving me a glare that could kill. “I’m looking for some good smelling shit for my girl. Got some suggestions?”

Lordy-lou, I felt embarrassed just talking like that . . . I muttered mentally to the cat-creature.

“Row five: fragrants,” was all the reply I got.

With the store being so tiny, all of the aisles were crammed together not unlike how a miniature supermarket might look like in a dollhouse. Careening and preening my neck, I found aisle five . . . right in front of my face, as usual. I slowly walked down the picaresque shop row and pretended like I cared as I looked at the lilacs, lavender, and freesia flowers.

Okay, good. Just keep walking and browsing. I am working my magic.

Magic. Right.

Really, though, it was not like I didn’t believe in the existence of magic, should it exist in actuality, it was just that I was tiring of being flung from one part of the city to the next. At least, flung without direction. I needed something more to start basing this insanity off from because even though the cat-creature unofficially known as Felix said time and again that all of this was real— it is real, mortal, stop doubting yourself— I had my doubts.

All the same, as I lifted a wonderful vase of honeysuckle, ornately designed and made from some luxury ceramics, pretending as I did so that buying such a trinket would get me into the panties of my non-existent girl, I felt a disturbance; nearby, I noticed something like a heat-wave shimmer shuffle and move about as if it were levitating above a dusty highway. I did a double-take. Yup, that sure was a thing that existed.

I tried to concentrate. I wanted to reach out and touch the disturbance. But I did not. I knew that if I did, I would draw a scene to myself; so I instead made a scene of examining the vase in my hand. I asked the clerk for the price. In a monotone, he replied, “on the railing, dipshit.”

Looking away, but muttering a “thanks,” I saw that the price was indeed on the shelf railing. Where it always was. In every store. Ever.

Thirty-five dollars for this little thing? Jimmy-crickets!

Enough gawking. I have opened the shimmer for you. Put the plant down and move further down the aisle. And try not to be a klutz about it. I dunno what you did, but that clerk looks like you just took a shit on his grandma.

Felix-the-cat-creature’s remarks was spot on as the clerk did, in fact, look like he wanted to slug me across the face. I did not like the fact that he called me a dipshit, and wondered if that was how all of the clerks who worked here acted, but I got it: if I worked the night shift at a flower shop in the Not Good part of town, I, too, would be both suspicious and probably a little hostile to everyone who came inside. After all, what normal person needs a bunch of lilies at 2:05 in the morning?

I turned on my heels and made my way further down the aisle. Now I could see what the cat-creature meant. Smack-dab in front of me was a whole wall of shimmering-glowing. Faint, but noticeable, and when one was right up close like I was, very distinct. Impossible not to notice.

Come on, laddie, I don’t have all day. Take a step already!

Tentatively, I took a step and passed through the shimmer.