He shuffled each foot forward, feeling with his toes for an edge or some obstruction in his path. Time passed slowly because he had no sense of the sun or moon. There was only the blue-gray fog obscuring everything, even his body. He could only make out his hand if placed directly in front of his face.
“Markle Vanrick,” the voice called again.
This time, it sounded closer, over to his left. Increasing his pace, he went in that direction, wanting to find someone to explain what was going on. If that person knew the way out, he could go back home.
Home? Where is home?
He stumbled into a small, circular clearing, full of bright, clear air, instead of stifling fog. It caught him by surprise and he took three steps into the area before coming to a stop. His eyes looked around the dome, at the barrier between the two spaces. It was a perfect semi-sphere.
“Markle Vanrick.”