This story is written without direct narration. It goes from one scene to the next, from surreal to detailed realism, to create a story from a collage of images, sensations, and scenes. Each segment is concise, detailed, and focused. And though each scene is focused, the overall effect shall give the widest picture possible.
Alex felt his imagination open with the door as his eyes fell away into the mysteries beyond. Darkness shaded the truth of his discovery, but as soon as he'd escaped the sunlight, his conclusion hit with the slam of the door at his back.
Shapes shifted as his eyes slipped over the scene within, but his mind somehow focused on the center of the space. There was a hole in the air.
Raoul felt his fears being brushed aside with the ferns as his eyes drifted into the unknown beyond. Shadows concealed the heart of his discovery, but as soon as he'd stepped into the grove, his realization landed like the sprinkle of drops knocked lose from the boughs overhead.
Figures fluttered as his eyes flickered over the flurry of ferns, but finally he found himself focusing on the center of the scene. There was a hole in the air.
"And so," claimed Quin, "We transported the hole to the basement of our laboratory."
A man grunted from the front row. Having interrupted the presentation with this sound, he then butted the table with his round gut as he rose awkwardly to his feet. "I've had enough," he said.
The others fidgeted in silence as they watched this man struggle to be clear from the tables and chairs. And then the collective breath was held as the man passed with uneven strides over the open floor to the door. The door opened, the man vanished, and the scientist at the front tightened his tie.
A single rough beard was fingered in the back row, a neck was scratched near the window, and a single chair squeaked with protest.
Quin cleared his throat.