Rincewind recalled the first time he’d ventured out into Margate. Of course, he hadn’t known he was in was Margate. Rincewind didn’t know where he was, only where he wasn’t. It was getting to be a rather nasty habit actually. He could probably write a guide book about being where you weren’t supposed to be. All Rincewind knew was that he wasn’t in Ankh-Morpork. It wasn’t just the roads had all black on and the hideous growling monsters that sped along them and there were hardly any people. No, what gave it away more than anything was the smell. Or lack of smell. Though there was a sour tang to the air that Rincewind didn’t recognise. He edged along the stone walk (which was an improvement over the mud at home, he had to admit) almost clinging to the buildings, staying as far away from the monsters as he could. Rincewind gawped at them because they seemed to swallow people and then spit them back out. And the people didn’t seem to mind. And everyone, everyone Rincewind saw either had little strings coming out of their ears or they had small shiny boxes that they talked into. He saw one woman so engrossed in her conversation that she actually ran into one of the poles with lights on. She just gave a loud curse and kept right on going. Rincewind had never seen anything like it, but he resolved firmly to avoid them at all costs, if they captivated people they way they appeared to. Rincewind was beginning to long for the relative safety of the pub. At least he felt sort of at home there. He had just decided to turn back but as he did, he noticed the display of the shop he was just in front of. His jaw dropped and he thought his eyes just might decide to jump out of his head and go for a closer look. He obliged them, creeping a bit closer.
Rincewind stared, his breath making a cloud on the window. He unconsciously wiped it away, still staring. He cupped his hands around his face so he could see better. How in the name of all the gods was this possible?! He couldn’t believe that people allowed it! He surely wasn’t in Ankh anymore. Nor in any other place he’d found himself. Just then, a well-dressed skeleton came rushing out of the shop. “Here now!” it shouted at Rincewind. “Stop huffing on the glass!” Rincewind tore his gaze away. It wasn’t a skeleton; just a very, very thin woman. Rincewind had seen Death (more times than he cared to remember really) and he believed this woman could give him serious competition in the weight-loss department. “Yart!” He croaked. The woman glared at him. “You perverts are all alike!” She told him. “I’ve got to clean that glass you know!” She folded her arms and gazed menacingly at him. “Don’t they get cold?” Rincewind asked in a shaking voice. He couldn’t imagine why the poor women stayed in the window. Perhaps it was some sort of punishment. “Oh, smart pants are we?” the woman asked him, glaring from eyes that were purple on top. “Well, I’m not playing! Get out before I take the broom to you!” She took a step toward Rincewind and he fled back to the pub.
*With abject apologies to J D Salinger (and Iago). ;)