![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
Open
Owen ran a hand through his hair and closed the text book. There were only so many muscles he could memorise at a time and he'd reached that limit five muscles ago, at gluteus maximus.
He grabbed his jacket and his mobile phone. Knowing his mates, they'd be in a pub somewhere. He'd text them on a way, he decided, and left the small apartment he rented near the hospital – and stopped dead in his tracks.
He hadn't stepped out on the stairs, he'd stepped outside. His apartment was on the second floor. And the outside wasn't Cardiff, either, it was a village. A village with grass and smell and countryside.
"What the fuck?" Owen asked and turned around. His door was gone.
He grabbed his jacket and his mobile phone. Knowing his mates, they'd be in a pub somewhere. He'd text them on a way, he decided, and left the small apartment he rented near the hospital – and stopped dead in his tracks.
He hadn't stepped out on the stairs, he'd stepped outside. His apartment was on the second floor. And the outside wasn't Cardiff, either, it was a village. A village with grass and smell and countryside.
"What the fuck?" Owen asked and turned around. His door was gone.