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Tyrone Getts materialized on the steps of the Process, Inc. building at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Main Street.  The Process, Inc. building, as well as both Fifth and Main, had also materialized only moments before.  A scattering of freshly-appeared pedestrians and the drivers of a few cars filled out the scene, but took no notice of their new stranger. 

The man was not concerned at finding himself suddenly outside a prominent downtown business.  He worked there, and despite his brief existence, knew that he had worked there for a little over a year.  He was, however, struck by a vague sense that something should happen.  Nothing did.

Tyrone checked his watch.  It was half-past noon, the beginning of lunch.  In the bag he carried slung over his shoulder was the turkey and tomato sandwich he'd packed that morning along with several mailings he needed to drop off at the post office.  He's send those off first, then find somewhere shady to eat.  Shoving his hands into his pockets, Tyrone started down the stairs.

Something happened.

Another man materialized, seated exactly on the step where Tyrone had quite recently been standing himself.  The men were identical.  Same dark skin.  Same tall build.  Same tight coils of black hair. They even wore the same green corduroy jackets that seemed out of sync with their khaki pants and button-down business shirts.  In fact, the other man was Tyrone, only this time his clothes were rumpled and he looked as though he hadn't shaved or slept in days.  This latest addition sat slumped on the stairs; a look of profound despair creased his face.

Now, there was concern.

Tyrone stood gaping at himself and tried to make some sense out of his present dual state.  He failed, though it did occur to him that the twin intruder might be the one responsible for explaining things.  So Tyrone (the former) was about to ask Tyrone (the latter) just what all this popping out of nowhere was about when--as abruptly as he had appeared--the other man vanished.

The double's disappearance would almost certainly have been a great relief to Tyrone, had he not also taken with him all the other pedestrians and cars, Process, Inc., and the entire corner at Fifth and Main.

Tyrone looked down.  Where the steps to his office building had once been, there was now the black-top of a paved road.  The road offered no hints as to where it had come from or where it might be going, just it snaked off silently into the distance of an empty field.  Dumb shock sustained Tyrone long enough for him to take in his new surroundings, but then he made the mistake of once more trying to make sense of things.  Things did not make sense.  Tyrone's brain spun in an admirable effort at reason, but quickly gave up the cause for hopeless and quit.

Before he hit the ground, Tyrone wondered if the turkey and tomato sandwich was still in his bag.

The End

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