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Beyond the seventh glass horizon, where gravity sleeps upside down, the cities grow sideways and the rivers remember tomorrow. I woke inside a blue corridor with no beginning, holding a clock that was counting colors instead of time.

Above me, enormous silver birds carried libraries between invisible planets while mountains floated through the walls like unfinished thoughts. The sky was made of velvet equations, and every star had a different temperature of silence.

At the center of the dimension stood a door shaped like a whisper. Behind it, three moons were arguing with a staircase, while a golden creature quietly planted thunderstorms in a field of transparent sand.

I asked where I was.

The floor answered with Tuesday.

So I kept walking.