(previous installment)
Falling Through the Cracks, continued

"Do I know you?" says Preedle, more to pass the time while he adjusts to his new surroundings than because he really believes he needs the answer. Unfortunately, he needs rather more adjusting than the time given to him with that question, as he is not where he expects to be at all - instead of an alleyway, or more helpfully, the bed in his apartment, he is lying on a slab of marble, in the middle of a room that appeared like nothing so much as the inside of a giant, crystal chrysanthemum. Light bounces around the inside of the room like a four-year old, completely uncontrollable and full of energy, and gently illuminates a dark-haired woman near the wall. Preedle tears his eyes from her only with great difficulty and looks for the woman who was talking to him, because clearly someone as beautiful as her would have no reason to do so. As if the strange surroundings are not enough, though, the woman speaks to him in the same voice he heard upon waking. "Of course you know me, silly. I'm Annie. Are you alright? Did you hit your head?"

"Hit my head?" Preedle says, rubbing a particular spot on his jaw that has been hit with unerring accuracy by a slightly unlikely bludgeon twice now. "Yes, now that you mention it, I might have."

(O dearest reader, here you can see the principle of dramatic sarcasm in action; instead of being reduced to a stuttering wreck at the prospect of being in the same room as a woman as beautiful as the one before him (let alone actually talking to her), Preedle is able to utter an appropriately witty and sarcastic remark for the benefit of those of us who know his recent experiences.)

To Preedle's great surprise, Annie rises from her seat by the crystal wall and glides over to him. She takes his hand away and applies her own delicate fingers to the bruise there. "Oh, dear, you have been hurt, haven't you? Oh, I do hope it wasn't the apes bothering you as you came through."

Preedle tries to say something in response that expresses how little he knows about the apes, or why apes would be here, or why he would be here, or how he got here, let alone why apes would bother him as he got here, as well as a well-formed query about a certain angry woman with a fish, but all he manages at this point is: "Urg." It is a very eloquent "urg", however, as we shall shortly discover.

"How eloquent of you!" Annie exclaims. "I am so glad you're alright. I was afraid... nevermind. Are you still ready to get the dewdrop oil for me?"

Preedle is about to explain that he doesn't know much about dewdrop oil, and especially not where to find it, but before he is able to form too eloquent a response he loses track of his thoughts completely. Annie's hand on his jaw is having a far too distracting effect for Preedle's mental well-being. The many glittering facets of the crystal room do not help in this regard, and Preedle soon finds himself at what looks like an exit to the room, with no recollection of moving there from his marble perch. "Remember," says Annie, "dewdrop oil. It is terribly important!" Preedle stares at her face, angelic and pleading, and nods. Her hand slides from his jaw as though letting him go with the greatest of reluctance, and Preedle has the strange sensation that he is falling - past flashing crystal, towards a bright, white light.

continued tomorrow...