The instant the tip of the bare foot, its nails painted black, brushed against his side, Murphy first felt the soft, slightly cool touch of the sole, mingled with a faint scent different from the office's incense.
Immediately after, an invisible force pushed him, sending his body irresistibly into the Otherworld passage.
There was little to describe about the process of crossing worlds.
If one had to use an analogy, it was perhaps like taking a short nap in a smoothly moving train car, only to wake up at the next station to find the scenery outside had quietly changed.
The bizarre, grotesque scenery he had expected of the Nightmare World did not appear.
What greeted his eyes was a refreshing, even picturesque landscape of beautiful mountains and clear waters.
Murphy stood on a gentle, grassy slope.
Beneath his feet was soft, thick grass, damp with dew. The blades were a vibrant, dewy green, dotted here and there with nameless wildflowers.
