So, this is something completely different. For those reading it, Adam Black's still my main baby and main priority. This will not, in any way, take away from my focus on Adam. This idea came about when I was talking with my girlfriend about wanting to try something different, fiction-wise, so she gave me a challenge. First off, a female protagonist. And the female protagonist can't just be a male with a woman's name, but instead an actual female protagonist. And two, the genre needs to be as far away from Adam's adventures as possible. So, through a conversation, we came up with the premise, I chewed on it for a few days, and was able to construct what I consider something fun. This is a side project, but one I'm having a lot of fun with.

Fair warning: if you're one of those people who want everything to make sense and be explained in detail, this is not the story for you. The story will contain numerous allegories and variations of symbolism I will not bother to explain. It's the nature of the story. Some of it will be made clear, but some of it won't be. You either get it, or you don't. You've been warned, so it's fair, in my opinion.

So, this is called Dreamscaping.

Chapter 01

"And upon realizing this, she was faced with what would be the inevitable fate of her journey... For she would... Oh, for God's sake!"

Alice slams down the lid of her laptop in a fit of frustration and places her head on top of it, running her fingers through her hair that's already suffered some damage due to her habit of taking her anger out on it.

For as long as she could remember, she's always wanted to be an author. Alice has never been good at everyday life; on the left to her laptop she has a sizeable pile of unpaid bills, most of which she hasn't even opened because of her fear of what she might find. The pile mostly acts as a stand for her coffee mug anyway. This is also why the top bill of the pile is always brown with coffee stains all over.

Real world, in general, has always scared her.

She's always found comfort in living through her characters in the imaginary worlds she creates on paper.

No bills, no people, no work, no social interaction. No responsibilities.

What Alice has always lacked in her life skills, she's more than made up in her vivid imagination. As well as her more than voracious, seemingly neverending eagerness to create. Literal, visual, it doesn't matter. Her safe haven is in her writing, but she also has a passion for painting, photography, drawing, you name it.

Whatever escapism she can find.

Today was her one day off in a long time, and she had big plans to dedicate it to her writing, but a writer's block has decided to place a black cloud above her for weeks now.

The fact that she can't seem to be able to create anything now that she finally has the time to do so, further accentuates her frustration.

It was never supposed to go like this; Alice was supposed to have a bestseller out by the time she was 30, and now that she's a year removed from that, all she has are dozens and dozens of half-finished projects that she can't seem to finish. Her biggest problem has always been her inability to finish what she's started. She's very good at starting writing though. Exceptionally good.

It's just that she starts to write without a definite end game, a final goal. She just sort of does things and tries to see what happens. Then her stories always take a steep step or two into the abstract and she gets lost.

That's also the story of her life so far, pretty much.

"Oh, life. Why must you be so hard?"

Taking a bite of the half-eaten apple on her table, Alice grabs her phone and goes through her social media messages.

Her frustration is quickly replaced by full-blown anxiety as her boyfriend would like to see her out on the town. Alice has made it known several times that when she's creating, especially writing, she is not to be disturbed. It wouldn't be a big deal for most other people to politely say no, but Alice has never really mastered the art of declining. She's always preferred to ignore things, hoping they would eventually disappear.

It's not that she doesn't care for Mark, she does. He's nice. Good-looking. Nothing really wrong with him. And he never minds the fact that Alice's apartment is a mess, equaled only by the mess she herself is sometimes due to being too lazy to really put on makeup or do her hair.

But she doesn't love him, either.

They just sort of ended up together eight months ago because Alice is not good at saying no.

Alice stares at Mark's message on her phone and really wants to tell him no, she's writing today. But that would mean taking responsibility of disappointing him, so instead, she reluctantly agrees.

So she replies.

"Yeah, sure. Pick me up in 30? I'll do something to look something close to respectable."

Mark wouldn't mind Alice showing up as is; in her sweatpants and a bun, but she's been distant enough to him recently and feels she owes him something, so she decides to actually try and look like a human being for once.

Alice always has trouble showing up on time. Mostly due to the fact that it's hard to find anything in her apartment that always looks like a bomb has gone off - at least three times.

Tons and tons of paintings, drawings, all sorts of art equipment, some cameras that she's behind on her payments of.

She tries not to visit her kitchen often because the pile of unwashed dishes is something that always forces her to face the fact that she's completely unable to take care of certain basic things in her life. It makes her feel ashamed. But ashamed enough to do anything about it.

In her mind, all it's going to take is that one finished book. It will make her all the money she can handle, she can relax and finally work on her life.

Her realism is not as strong as her imagination.

Alice manages to get ready just in time for Mark's car to arrive. She stopped and got lost in her story world mid-way through getting ready, which cost her at least 15 of the 30 minutes she had to get ready.

But she succeeded, against all odds. That's the superpower she has that she's always been grateful for: somehow, she always manages. Not always in the most optimal way, but she does.

Alice and Mark kiss as she enters the car before Mark begins to drive. Alice is somewhat elsewhere, but Mark is happy to see her for the first time in a week now. Alice's work schedule has made it so that she's gone straight to bed after work, ignoring everything else. She would wake up sometime during the night and start working on her writing, leaving very little room for social interaction.

"Hey, honey. I've kinda missed you."

"Missed you, too, Mark."

"Did you finish your bestseller yet?"

"Hah, I wish. I keep getting stuck. I don't know, Mark, maybe I'm not cut out to be a writer."

"Oh, stop that right now. You just need to believe in yourself. I do."

It's easy for Mark to say. In Alice's mind anyway. Mark's the complete opposite of Alice: always on time, does what's asked of him, does it well, and seems to always succeed in everything he does. There's very little excitement to him, but Alice does respect the fact that Mark has his act together so well. They're an odd couple. Mark is the engineer type, while Alice is the artistic one. They don't have much in common, but they still get along really well.

Sitting in Mark's car reminds Alice of just how much she misses her old car. There was just no way she could have afforded to keep it. Besides, it was a lot of work.

Alice gets lost in her head again until Mark snaps her out of it.

"So where do you wanna go?"

"Uhh, to, like, eat?"

Mark smiles as he finds it cute when Alice is clearly elsewhere. He's used to the fact that she doesn't always concentrate. Alice is never sure, though. She feels she's being rude. She's definitely not a bad person by any means, she's quite nice, it's just that she simply lacks certain skills when it comes to human interaction.

"Yeah, that was the plan."

"Right. Umm, you decide."

"Okay, well, we haven't been to Maharaja in a while."

"Isn't Maharaja closed due to the renovations?"

"It is? Damn. Well, honestly, you're the vegan, so why don't you decide?"

Even something as simple as picking a restaurant is a challenge for Alice. She's simply not good at making decisions. All at once, several different scenarios of Mark possibly not liking the food in a restaurant of her choosing start running through her mind at accelerated speed.

"Let's go to a place you like. I'm not even really hungry, to be honest."

That's a blatant lie, Alice hasn't eaten anything but an apple all day and she's starving. But she's trying to avoid the situation and just get it over with.

"Seriously, what's wrong? Talk to me, Alice."

"Nothing, nothing! I'm fine. Just fine. Don't worry."

"Hey, I know you better than that. Look, I know the last conversation didn't end very well. About me wanting to move in together. If you want space, that's fine, you just made it seem like living with me would be the most horrible thing imaginable."

"It's not that, Mark, it's just... I'm just not very good at stuff like that. You know me."

"Yeah, but we could learn, together. I didn't mean to be pushy."

"You weren't, you weren't. But could we, uhh, change the subject?"

Alice is getting nervous. Not only was she frustrated with her writing, now Mark wanted to get together and interrupt her creative process, and not only that, but he wanted to see her in order to argue with her.

Mark figures they're not going anywhere to eat so he just takes a steep turn to the highway, thinking they might as well talk in the car and drive aimlessly.

Almost like on command, the weather turns terrible as a storm begins.

"Alice, you know I love you, but you need to be honest with me here. Is it some other guy?"

"No! No, no, no, nothing like that, no. Come on, Mark."

Alice is telling the truth, but Mark's accusation does stem from that one time when they had just started dating and Alice made a mistake. One that she admitted and regretted and was forgiven for, but a big reason why she's involved with Mark is the fact that she's guilt-ridden over betraying the trust of such a nice person.

"You've just been very distant lately."

"I know, it's the writing. It's very important to me and it's just been difficult lately, that's all."

"Let me help you with that."

"You can't. That's not how it works. It's personal, I'm the one who needs to do it."

Alice accidentally raises her volume enough to make her retort sound like a snap, and Mark takes slight offense to it and takes his eyes off the road to talk back at her.

"Fine, but I think I deserve something here, I've been pretty damn patient with you for eight-"

"Mark, look out!"

Mark reacts too slowly and the car crashes with another at high speed.

---

Alice opens her eyes.

She lays immobile for an extended period of time, unsure of exactly how long.

Only after a while does intensifying confusion begin to arise.

"Mark?"

She's not in the car, she's not in a hospital.

No.

The milieu would best be described as a purple desert.

Miles and miles and miles of desert.

Alice can't tell whether it's daytime or nighttime; the moon is up, but somehow it's still daytime, and the moon warms everything it sees like a hot desert sun.

Alice sits up and looks around. It's nothing but purple and sand. All around. She's too confused for even inner dialogue, let alone speaking out loud.

She has no idea. Nothing has ever happened to her that could even begin to prepare her for something like this. It's too absurd, too surreal.

Is she dead? Is this heaven? Or hell?

She gets up to her feet and examines herself; no cuts, no bruises; she's wearing the same clothes she was when she left her home to see Mark.

She's not in pain, she's not bleeding.

Yet the last thing she remembers is Mark's car crashing to another at high speed.

Instinctively, Alice simply begins to walk in a random direction. She walks, walks, and walks. The scenery doesn't seem to change. There's no way for her to keep track of how long she's walking.

The heat gets increasingly intense, even though it "looks" cold. If Alice were to paint a picture of a sleeping and cool desert, this is exactly what it would look like. Things seem opposite to Alice and her senses give her mixed messages.

It might have been an hour, maybe two. Maybe something more, or less. It's impossible to tell.

But finally, Alice sees something.

She approaches what looks like a bus stop, as weird and random as that seems.

A bench next to a pole with a bus stop sign attached to it.

On the bench sits an old man with long and bushy, white beard. His clothes look ragged and dusty, it looks as if he's been sitting on the stop for quite a while.

Alice gets more careful in her movement as she gets closer to the bench.

The old man sees Alice and smiles. He looks very approachable and nice, yet Alice is afraid and confused.

"Uhm, hey?"

The old man doesn't say anything, and instead just keeps smiling.

"Where- where am I?"

Continuing to smile, the old man extends his arms into the air.

"You are here."

"Yeah, umm, where is 'here'?"

"Here is here. Here is where we wait."

The human contact breaks Alice down as she begins to vent about not understanding.

"Where am I! What are we waiting for? I want to go home, I don't understand any of this!"

Alice's tears do nothing to change the old man's demeanor.

"We wait for the Bus Man. He decides who leaves and who stays."

"Please tell me. Am I dead?"

"You are not alive. Yet you still live."

The old man moves slightly to the left, making room on the bench for Alice. She's tired of walking and standing so decides to take the seat next to him.

Alice tries her best to calm herself. She dries her tears and attempts to put it all together. Effortless as it may be, it does help her to maintain her composure.

The old man doesn't say anything.

He just smiles and waits.

Alice decides to play along and goes to break the ice after an extended silence.

"How long have you been here? Waiting?"

"Forever."

"Can I be here forever?"

"That is up to the Bus Man. He decides."

"Who is the Bus Man?"

"The decision-maker."

It's fairly evident by this point that the conversation isn't going to go anywhere, no matter what Alice asks.

So she waits.

She waits, until a yellow bus indeed begins to appear, moving towards the bus stop.

There is no road, but the bus moves perfectly smoothly along the purple sand.

The bus stops and opens its door.

It's filled with old people, all of which seem less friendly than the old man at the bench. They all give Alice a nasty look, as if she's the worst person imaginable, the last one they would want to see.

Alice still gathers the courage to step inside the bus to talk to the driver. He is not friendly nor hostile, but perfectly neutral.

He doesn't say anything, though, but seems to be waiting for Alice to ask something.

Alice turns around to look at the old man on the bench.

He smiles and nods.

Alice turns back to the bus driver.

"Can I- can I come?"

The bus driver measures Alice with his eyes for a while, until finally uttering a word.

"You may."

The driver looks at the old man and simply shakes his head.

"No."

The door closes and the bus starts to move.

The other passengers continue to give Alice evil looks, staring at every move she makes. She feels awkward stumbling her way to the back of the bus to the only empty seat available.

She sits down on the seat, wondering where the bus is taking her and what is going to happen next.