You peer out from the diner and see nothing. The further out you gaze, the more dilated the light becomes, leading to an infinite band of seamless white nothing.

They try and find a way to reach you, but it's like concrete.

I'm not a trick of the shadows. You're the trick of light.

I'm not a trick of the shadows. You're the trick of light.

Well, it tasted like Creamsicle. Perhaps the giant radioactive insignia on the outside of the flask was meant to be a warning or something. After your sixth beer, you tend to ignore stuff like that.

What kind of twisted infinity loop have you managed to get yourself stuck in? Time seems to weave in and out like some kind of Gordian knot.

So it has been a while since my last RPM. I felt this song was the best was to reintroduce myself with the insane process that is the RPM Challenge....

On an elevator, we exist in a perpetual uncertain state between different floors.

You're hitchhiking, with no recollection of how you came to be here. A route with an irregular number has never been a positive sign.