93 SIXTH AIR

The endless colors around Stephen were rotating. Colors formed ribbons, circles, triangles and other shapes. Stephen could only stare: he didn't think he could close his eyes even if he wanted to.

Things he saw seemed too complex for his mind to comprehend, yes simple enough to notice. He saw endless worlds of all shapes. Some were similar to Earth: some were alternate versions of Earth. Some of those Earths were like his own: others were barren like desert, frozen like ice, burned like fire.

There were other worlds: worlds of storms. Worlds where seasons laster decades, worlds where they lasted days. Worlds inhabited by creatures alike to humans and other animals: others so alien he couldn't even remember them. All that was presenting itself before Stephen like a broken old TV without proper signal, turning channels on and off.