The transition was instantaneous. The smell of old coffee was replaced by tropical heat. He turned back, but there was no monitor, no desk—just a floating, rectangular window of light suspended in the air, showing his empty apartment.
He didn't think about his deadlines or the rain hitting his actual window. He simply leaned forward and stepped through the resolution.
Elias reached out, his fingers brushing the cool glass. Instead of a hard surface, his hand plunged into warmth. The screen rippled like the surface of a pond. He felt the grit of sand beneath his fingernails.
