In the midst of the city's ferocious rush hour, she was rushing to take the train. She moved so fast that faces were a blur and time stopped to watch the frill of her skirt as she passed. In that flashing whirl of sound and light, that's when she saw him. In the split second that it would have taken her to board the train, she whipped around and saw him; then she wish she hadn't. 'But that's impossible', she though; the shuffling crowd joslted for space and shoved her aside. Within an instant, her skin froze and breathing became a herculean task. In a daze, she stepped away from the train and moved towards the child; his tiny face was a mess of tears, her mind was numb. The train had begun to move, but she didn't notice.
"How did you get here?", she questioned, holding his hand.
To which the crying child responded, "I'm sorry Mommy, I forgot to close the cosmic wormhole."
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