The CB Radio in the corner echoes with an idle static, but something sounds peculiar - it's no noise you've ever heard before. There's something intelligent about it, like it's peering out of the speaker and looking right at you.

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.

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.

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

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

Yeah - don't even think Houdini could get himself out of this mess. Ever tried picking the quantum lock on a wormhole?

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.

Or is this some sort of dream? "Sleep come soon, and white away the room." Perhaps this is a dream you shouldn't be having. Some doors are best left unopened.