Portal To Another Life

Vera moped every day.

Rather, she best described her post-work ritual as: a sluggish sinking into furniture while the general malaise of a trivial existence gradually overtook her. To her, this cloud of detachment signaled a successful extraction from the social environment.

Ironically, it was in this cozy isolation that Vera felt her most communal. Be it the voices of actors projecting their intentions before pursuing them belting from her Mac, or the rhythmic overlapping tones of podcasters searching for a lost point singing from the radio on her nightstand, Vera was never alone.

Out there her best parts melded into a liquidy substance that dripped until depletion, lost to the cracks in the pavement as she headed off to work. The outside world belonged to masses who had strength enough to claim it. The space taken in this room belonged to Vera and her friends of every race, size, and opinion to be silenced or encouraged with the click of a button. Occasionally, she told a joke to the AI chatbox on her browser.

It would laugh, it said, if it could.

Alone in her room each night, she engaged with artifice, praying all the while to one day transcend her little bubble even as she feared its popping.

On one such evening, Vera found herself venerably swaddled in her comfiest sweats, a cheap bottle of wine resting on the comforter beside her…when a portal appeared.

It didn’t look like any portal Vera had ever seen (having never seen one at all notwithstanding). It was square like a window, about five feet in both length and height, elevated off the ground, and completely discordant with the Sci-fi imagery that inspired her. If asked what a portal looked like, she surely would have settled on the idea of a Black Hole, soullessly sapping the light from her tiny bedroom.

Instead the square emitted a purply-green hue that seemed to flicker in its opening. Vera could not tell how deep the portal went or if there was another dimension to be explored at all. She was no physicist; merely a barista with subpar latte art.

Time passed. Vera made no move to investigate further, questions and fear tangled in her belly like hair in a drain, pausing all else from flowing through her. 

A knock on the door broke her trance. 

“T-t-tacos!” her roommate Winnefred sang, drumming a beat with her fists. “And by that I mean mostly nacho cheese. C’mon out and eat, ya hermit!”

Engaging faculties hitherto unused, Vera sprang to her feet and began spinning in circles wondering how to cover up the multi-dimensional rift splitting her room. She tossed a pillow at it; it sailed through the portal without fanfare, the white rectangle shortening in length until it was nothing at all. 

“Shit,” she mumbled.

“Vera, what the hell!” grumbled Winnie. “I know you’re antisocial but you’ve got to practice, sweetie. Open up.”

The doorknob turned and Vera, panicked, nearly fell into the damn thing as she rushed to stand before it, arms splayed out. Winnie, long-limbed, coily-haired, and artfully clothed, entered the room and took one clean look around.

Full-sized bed littered with snack wrappers and a re-corked bottle of wine. Check.

Laptop on crinkled bedspread, opened to the AI program Vera loved to tell bad jokes to. Check.

Small desk crammed into the corner stacked with fiction books earmarked in the early pages of each. Check.

Vera, Winnie’s undersized, meek roomie clad in her favorite sweats, patchy food stains decorating the thighs where she liked to wipe her fingers before vigorously tapping at her screen. Check.

Vera herself standing outstretched as if frozen in the middle of a perfect jumping jack. Uhh…check, she guessed.

Winne took a step further in and one to the side, bypassing the barista apron Vera must have stripped out of on entry. Suddenly, the view was quite different. There appeared to be a poster hanging behind her friend. Except the poster seemed to be…floating?

Sizeable square window emitting eerie light while seemingly defying gravity at the foot of Vera’s mattress. Uncheck. Absolutely no fucking check!

“What the hell is that!” Winnie exclaimed, jumping onto Vera’s bed. She snatched a stuffed dog, flattened from decades of love, and held it to her chest like a talisman against the evil before her. “Have you been in those witchy corners of the internet again? I told you about that!”

Vera wanted to cry. This whole thing was beginning to feel overwhelming, plus she ached from standing like this. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d exercised and her shoulders quickly grew to resent the weight of her arms.

“No! This stupid thing just showed up,” she nearly sobbed. All she’d wanted was to come home, watch her favorite foreign fantasies, and maybe get a little tipsy if there was enough leftover wine. This was severely messing up her routine. “We have to get rid of it!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Winnie, her tone announcing a switch in gears. “This thing just showed up? Out of nowhere?”

“Yes,” Vera whined. “I was just sitting here thinking about how I like my room but how maybe it would be nice to have a change of pace but not really because that would be scary but maybe just something more–”

“Wait, wait–shut-up.” Winnie, ever blunt with a whining allergy, held up her hand. The dog fell to her lap as she sat upright and crossed her legs. “I see. This is starting to make sense.”

“What is?” whimpered Vera.

“First, wipe your tears.” Vera did as she was told and Winnie smiled at her, an adult face that somehow retained its childlike mischievousness. “If you want my expert opinion: it looks like you summoned this.”

Finally, her shoulders cursing in languages both real and imaginative, Vera lowered her arms. She looked at Winne, criss-crossed in her bed, eyes alight with that devil-smile, then looked around at her room, crammed with things she loved yet somehow claustrophobic, and finally she looked over her shoulder at the flickering, purple portal to the uncharted floating behind her. Did she do this somehow?

“You put anything in?”

Vera turned, almost knocking noses with Winnie. The latter was kneeling on the edge of the mattress now and eyeballing Vera with an excitement that Winnie was known for conjuring at the drop of a hat. The only things Vera could conjure were tears and a deep sense of helplessness in face of the unknown.

And now maybe portals too.

Wiping her eyes, Vera gestured at the lone pillow on her bed. “A pillow earlier but it didn’t come out the other side.”

“Of course not, it’s a portal.”

“You don’t know what portals do!” Vera was beginning to grow agitated again. Even as she eyed the subject defying logic in her space, she began to feel herself being pulled away. Not into the portal itself, but into the dark places of her mind which could not yet grasp the unfolding situation.

“Okay, calm down,” said Winnie, firmly gripping her friend’s shoulders. “This could be a good thing.”

“It could?”

“Yes. You’ve been saying it forever now–you’re lonely, unmotivated, and scared to death of people. This is your chance!”

Vera felt she was losing the plot. “My chance? I don’t–”

“Vear-Bear, it’s the unknown! It’s a potential new universe, something no one else has ever seen! Maybe. Either way,” Winne rolled her eyes and got to her feet. Turning Vera so that the portal’s light reflected on both their faces, an enigmatic pulsing exuding to match the rhythm of their heartbeats, Winnie added, “It showed up in your room when you’ve been asking for something new. Maybe you should go in.”

The logic fell short and Vera told her roommate as much. Almost as quickly as it appeared, the light dancing in Winnie’s eyes expired. With one last squeeze to her friend’s shoulders, Winnie released her and turned away from the portal, stepping over misplaced items as she headed for the door.

“Whatever you want, hermit,” she sighed, seizing the knob. “Just let me know what you wanna do by this weekend. We’ll figure it out.”

“How?”

“I dunno,” Winnie shrugged. It was clear the interest had vacated her mind in place of hunger in her stomach. She placed her hand on her flat belly impatiently. “We’ll cover it up or call someone about it.”

“Who’re you gonna call?”

Vera instantly regretted the question.

With a smirk to defy all smirks, Winnie stated confidently, “Ghostbusters!” Vera rolled her eyes, briefly–very briefly–forgetting to be afraid. Winnie only laughed maniacally and disappeared behind the door, but not before declaring, “Hurry up before the cheese gets cold!”

And with that, Vera was left to her devices. 

Her very terrified devices. 

She pulled the hoodie over her head and scurried out of the bedroom.

The following dawn saw Vera performing actions with no notion of doing them. She stood in the mirror without seeing and brushed her teeth without feeling the bristles. As she exited her room, she took one distressed look at the portal’s light and felt the gateway cry out. Strangely, she heard some small part of her whisper back.

She slammed the door shut.

As she made her way down the steps of her apartment, Vera stopped just shy of the first landing. Down the last flight, she could hear her new neighbor whistling in the foyer as he checked his mail. She hesitated.

Eric Morgan moved in a month ago. He appeared close in age to Winnie and herself. Long dark hair and a bit of a pooch beneath the plain tees he wore. Vera appreciated how it rested on his jeans, concealing the upper part of his belt. His whole disposition seemed relaxed; a state Vera struggled to obtain.

For weeks, now, she’d duck her head and sprint pass, hating the way he lingered in the hall and took up space. Always making jokes at the mailbox, quick comments as he strolled by, eye contact and a smile for anyone there to receive it. This all gave Vera extreme anxiety. So much so that she often found herself stranded on the second flight, waiting with bated breath for the sound of his clicking door.

Not an option today. She was late enough as it was, the portal’s constant watch enough to keep her awake all night. Gathering herself, Vera stepped into the foyer. Eric wasted no time.

“Howdy there, stranger,” he said with some irony, crows feet declaring themselves as he smiled. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Vera frowned. “I live here.”

This brought the house down for Eric. He tossed his head and laughed. “Yeah, no kidding. I just meant you’re always running out in a hurry.”

Vera clenched her hands, sweat forming in her palms. “Sorry,” she mumbled. What else could she say? Of course he noticed her sprinting in and out of the apartment like some fruitcake. Vera imagined him laughing about her at the mailbox with the other residents. What a freakshow! Her face flushed.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” grinned Eric, displaying slightly crooked teeth. “I’m sure you’re a very busy woman with plenty to do. If anything I’m sorry I haven’t made more of an effort.”

Vera thought back to his attempts to wave at her. There was that time he introduced himself as she hurriedly jammed her key into the mailbox before sprinting away, his large hand drooping midair. She felt ashamed. “No need to be sorry,” she murmured. Wait–she was late.“I have to go!”

As she moved around him, Eric took one step, blocking her. Vera’s eyes grew wide and he quickly raised his hands to signal peace. “My bad–sorry. Was just gonna say, before you took off, there’s a game night at my place tonight. I’m hosting a Meetup for board nerds like myself. You should stop by.”

“Game night?” Vera blinked.

“Yeah, I do it once a week. Winnie says you’re a Catan girly–her words,” he chuckled. 

“You hang out with Winnie?”

“Yeah, she’s been to a couple game nights. Always drops by with nacho cheese–and very few chips, mind you. I told her she should invite you to one but she said you’d hate that.”

It was true. Vera would have 1000% percent rejected the invitation had it been delivered. Suddenly, she felt a new kind of shame. Forcing enough saliva to swallow, Vera raised her head. “I’ll come. To game night, I mean.”

She braced herself. How embarrassing if he retracted it now. 

But Eric only beamed and stepped aside, freeing the path. “Awesome! And hey–maybe you sneak some extra chips in the bowl when Winnie’s not looking, huh?” Laughing, he waved her off. The click she’d been waiting for sounded but Vera did not move.

What about her routine? Her calm, reliable routine?

Just then she remembered the rift waiting for her. Shaking, Vera let the spike of adrenaline carry her the many blocks to work, her heart speeding alongside her feet.

At the cafe Vera leaned into the rush. Faces danced, one after the other, grumblings both of impatience and thanks as she pulled espresso, steamed milk, and failed repeatedly at making a recognizable figure of the foam. Her coworker Jess, short-haired, short-statured, and short-tempered, ignored Vera and customers alike, her flawless efficiency silencing all complaints. Before Vera knew it, the midday lull had arrived. 

 Wiping her apron, Vera cut eyes to the woman sitting at a corner table in the cafe. The table was close enough to the coffee bar that Vera could see the books she’d stacked up. She could always see. The woman had been a regular for a few weeks now and Vera had enjoyed seeing which books she arrived with. Many were Vera’s favorites. 

The woman was extremely pretty and wore the kind of makeup you’d see on instagram models. Vera often daydreamed of strolling over and casually beginning a conversation. But the words stroll and casually were not in her body’s dictionary. Then again…

Without thinking, Vera grabbed a paper cup, filled it with the newly brewed batch, lidded it and headed over. She didn’t let the muttered ‘What’re you up to?’ from Jess deter her as she placed the free coffee on the table.

The woman looked surprised.

 Remembering Eric and his welcome grin, Vera smiled her best smile and said, “Hi–I’m Vera! I work here”–no kidding–“and I see you all the time. I really like the books you’re reading and wanted to”–to what?–“...tell you…I like them?”

How had she not exploded by now?

Blank stare. The lady looked at the coffee. Smiled, though her large green eyes crinkled in a way that opposed it. “Thank you,” she said in a high-pitched tone.

Vera’s stomach tightened. Still, she pressed on. “Um, are those what you’re reading?”

“I mean, I guess?” Abruptly, the woman turned to face her fully. “I’m sorry. Do you need something?”

Was Vera still in the cafe? Surely she’d gone through that portal yesterday and ended up in this social hellscape of a situation. Surely she was just a speck of dust in an endless void…

“Yo, Vera!” Jess’ voice. “These cups aren’t gonna wash themselves!”

Vera took the figurative life preserver and rushed back to the coffee bar with a squeak. Behind the counter, she bent to unload the dishwasher, disgraced. Who did she think she was, initiating conversation? Eric had roped her in with his unnatural friendliness, making her believe she should speak up more. Turns out the only social contract she signed was one penned by humiliation.

Just then, laughter.

Jess was covering her mouth. 

“Don’t sweat it,” she said. “That lady’s a tool.”

Taking the hot mug from Vera’s hand, Jess dried and shared the joke. Apparently the woman was a book influencer though she didn’t actually read any of the books. She got notes from a friend and sometimes went to coffee shops to film content. Jess admitted to “stalking” her online following a similar encounter.

“Let’s just say, literary analysis is not her strong suit,” she laughed, elbowing Vera.

Vera was shocked. It was the first time Jess had sustained a conversation with her. Offering a smile in return, she handed Jess another mug. As the shift wore on, Vera felt something warm growing deep inside her. Not fully blossomed–but seeded, anticipated.

The apartment door burst open revealing one figure effortlessly dwarfing the other. It took Winnie’s long, skinny legs three strides to reach the couch where she launched herself. Vera followed, laughing quietly as she closed the door behind them.

“I’m beat.” With her face pressed into the cushions, Winnie mumbled, “Good job tonight, Vear-bear. I know it was hard but I was happy to see you trying.”

The seed wiggled and stretched. 

As quietly as she could, Vera lowered the lights and crept the few feet to her bedroom door. Inside, the purple light glowed, drawing a window of potential on her mattress. Vera took a seat inside of it, resting on the edge of her bed as she pondered.

Yes, today had been scary. From acknowledging her neighbor’s efforts, to withering in the glare of that beautiful woman, to laughing alongside Jess (a shocking turn of events), to attending a game night full of strangers who were only happy to meet her, allowing her to display a range of humor she’d forgotten she had (and that AI failed to fully understand). Vera felt she had grown. More than that, she felt her appetite for new experiences had grown alongside her.

Staring into the portal, summoned into existence by the force of her loneliness, Vera knew that she would never know unless she asked. 

With one last look around her cozy, lovely little cage, Vera stood with conviction.

That was the last time Winnie ever saw her.