Ficlets

The Doctor From Who-ville abandoned the side of his newly acquired — and recently re-fainted — companion, Sarah. He took monstrous leaping steps to the centre of the strange blue box’s control platform, immediately turning knobs, throwing levers, and occasionally adding a “technical tap” to the hodge-podge mixture.

Gears revolved into life, the column in the centre of the control platform rising and falling in a fashion akin to a heartbeat. A strange sound rang thru eternity: Whoosh!

The strange blue box was no more.

Until it was again. But the real question, as the Doctor so aptly asked, was: “Now then, where are we?” And, of course, “when are we?”

He briskly strode to the strange blue box’s doorway and opened it, pushing all common sense aside and boldly exiting his craft. The hard soles of The Doctor’s shoes resounded upon the grided metal floor of their new destination.

“Building, space craft, or space station?” pondered The Doctor, as he set his sights upon a nearby window. “Well, let’s find out.”