...CITY LIQUID...

He approached apprehensively. He looked over his shoulder, then he glanced back over the other. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his chest like a bird and his breath sounded amplified inside his own head. It even seemed to echo to him. He knew he should be cautious, but he wasn't sure why he was so nervous. That was not like him; to be nervous. He was usually so calm and collected, even stoic. But this place, it gave him an eerie uneasiness that he did not like. Not one bit.

He couldn't see anyone, but he could feel eyes, or something, peering out at him. He didn't allow any of it to disway him, though. He advanced up the lone street that expressed itself with one gigantic warehouse on the left and another humongous warehouse on the right. They seemed to go on forever and he could only imagine all the relics and bizarre contents chambered inside of each monstrous structure. They were ancient in appearance as if they were the first of their kind ever to be erected. The depressed paint peeled and chipped away, it's somber tan hue faded even more so because of the scorching sun year after year. Old graffiti tags and amature murals peppered the sides of each building and somewhere along the line a gang had laid claim to them with their personal sigils. An old broken sign displayed some of the letters that originally portrayed the warehouse's name, but now it only read, "City Liquid". Clearly, they had been abandoned for quite some time now, so why could he feel life observing him?

He didn't believe that it was the birds that had nested along the bay door overhangs watching him. Nor did he think it was the numerous wasps in their hives that obsessed and swarmed over the railings and window frames glaring through him. So what was it? What was peeking out at him? Not the venomous asps that slithered along the crunchy dirt seeking shade from the high noon sun. It wasn't the creepy-crawly critters that lounged and scuttled underneath the wooden plank porches or even the vultures that soared high above waiting for the next doomed creature to feed them with their carcas. What was this energy looming over him?

He took a deep sigh and noted the triangular rainbow flags that were strung back and forth between the two buildings, zigzagging all the way down the street giving it the appearance of a fluttering ceiling. The flags flapped in the hot afternoon heat lazily but with intent and without hesitation. They were mesmerizing, even in their faded and tattered condition, with all their brilliant colors of bright orange, hot pink, dazzling blue, fluorescent yellow and vivid green against the sepia landscape and structures. The wind was blowing North and slightly East. "Good direction", he thought to himself hoping it was some kind of omen.

He was feeling more and more uneasy moment by moment. Why was he even here? Was the portal even worth it? He didn't actually even know for sure if it existed at all. Was it just all in his mind because he wanted to believe that it existed so badly? But he had to believe. It was his only hope. If the portal didn't exist, then all hope was lost. But that didn't mean that he couldn't live out a few more years in peace somewhere green and lush and lovely. But then again, what kind of person would he be if he didn't at least try? Worthless, he reflected to himself. He would be worthless he determined. Without further hesitation, he took stride and approached the center of the street where both bay doors opposite of each other stretched open their wide mouths to reveal the interior of each warehouse. As he did, instantly the flags stopped their vivid dance in the wind, though the wind didn't shift or alter in any way. A cold chill shivered its way up his spine and made the hairs on his neck stand at attention.

"I am here for the portal!", he shouted to no one but the potential guardians of the gateway. "I'm not looking for any trouble! I just want to go through the portal!" He had hoped that his words would do the trick and he would be granted safe passage.

Suddenly, the flags lifted into the air and against the wind they began to flap and slap wildly. He could hear them 'whisper' to him as if acknowledging their awareness of his presence. He felt the wind shift and guide him towards the open bay door to the West but the flags remained in their steady and fanatic aerial dance. This was it, he chimed in his own mind. This was going to be either miraculous or horrendous, he was just sure of it. Did karma matter? Did God matter? What about all the legends and lores and fables he had heard over the years? Would superstitions help or hinder him? He didn't know. But bold men didn't come to be by being cowards. So he determined not to resist the guiding wind. He let it carry him up to the entrance, took one look back at the gaudy flags waving good-bye to him, and stepped into the warehouse portal.