Problems with the Perpendicular

She was twenty-one years old and four weeks away from graduation. She was of average height, average weight, and had average interests. She was a bit above average intelligence and a bit below average financial income. 1

And right now, she was feeling the average miserability that came with being an average human on an average day orbiting an average star that was just now making its way over the horizon. In short, Dylan did not like the fact that she was currently trekking her way across acres of campus at an unholy hour just to study for a history exam that she had no desire to take. 2

But, there she was, stumbling about in the pre-dawn clumsiness, tripping over the dew-dampened meticulously landscaped grass, heading toward a large and ominous glass building with winding staircases, books, out of date card catalogues, and more books. Still, she had a good five minutes before she reached the doorway to the library, and there was no use wasting it all moping. She let herself drift off to a nice little daydream where she got to stay in her warm pajamas and sleep in the dormitory all afternoon. 3

She was so absorbed in the sad little fantasy that she almost didn’t notice the horrifyingly loud mechanical whirring noises that decimated the silence of the early morning.4

Dylan jolted out of her pleasant stupor and hit the floor, her hands covering her head. She was certain she had mistakenly walked onto an airport landing strip and was about to be crushed by a jet place.5

“Oh god!” She said out loud. “..I’ve too much to live for!” She wailed in submission. On further thought, though, at least she wouldn’t have to take her exams if she was crushed by tons of metal fury. As the sound reached its loudest, a strange thought went through the red-heads mind. ‘I don’t think I fed Reggie this morning.’ 6

Reggie, of course, was the three-foot iguana that Dylan kept in her dorm room. He had, in fact, been fed earlier that morning, so her last thought was of no consequence.7

Just as she thought she was about to be a mushy blot on the ground, she realized the sound had stopped. He raised her head and looked around. She didn’t find a jet plane. Or an airport at all.8

No. She was right In the middle of the campus greenery, and everything was as it was before she took a dive for the ground, aside from her denim jeans being stained with earth and grass.9

Oh. And the large, strange blue phone box that was now about two yards away from where she stood.10

Dylan blinked. Several times, in fact. No matter how many times her lids wiped across her irises, the stubborn hallucination would not dissipate. 11

After about seven seconds of rapid fire blinking, the door to the phone box opened and out stepped a man. He was tall and thin with wild and disheveled brown hair. He resembled, thought Dylan, a broom in a suit. And a rather odd suit, at that. He wore a brown suit with bright blue pinstripes, complete with ragged brown trench coat and off-white dingy Converse trainers. He stepped out onto the grass, his large eyes squinting in the new sunlight.12

“Well!” He said simply, taking absolutely no notice of the young girl so close to him. He looked around a bit more. “… I… Don’t think this is New New New York. “ He said decidedly. 13

Dylan, who was so inclined to respond to the easily recognizable strange man, opened her mouth to comment. Just then though, he kneecaps rebelled and her eyes swiveled skyward and then, she was acutely aware of the fact that she was once again on the ground. This time, in a dead faint.14

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