Snippet #2521533

As she began to wake up from her slumber, Naomi realized something was off. Namely, her bed felt rather comfortable; having been living in a rinky-dink apartment complex for the past two years, she had been completely used to (and tolerant of) the fact that her mattress in her bedroom was very unappealing. However, right now, it was almost as if she was sleeping on a cloud.

Either she had fallen asleep at a friend's house--which was completely irrational, considering she had not left her house the night before and had no history of sleepwalking--or something was completely wrong.

Opening her eyes, Naomi looked around to find that, in fact, this was not her room in her apartment. Everything seemed... much older and more ancient than that, like something out of the turn of the century. Frantically, she felt around, hands landing on a familiar black-covered book with hand-scrawled notes. Naomi clutched it to her chest and breathed a sign of relief, knowing that there was at least a small shred of normalcy in this crazy dream--

Where in the world was she, anyway?

Not having anywhere else to go and certainly wanting to figure out what exactly was going on, Naomi quickly got out of bed and looked out the window, noticing that it was suddenly getting darker out and that people were... not using the same technology that she remembered they used. Cars that looked like Model-T's had gone out of fashion over a hundred years ago, she had figured, and she quickly found a fountain pen and scribbled a few notes in a blank page. This was all so fascinating! Naomi really hoped that she remembered these notes for later... although this dream was rather vivid, after all...

The room she curretnly found herself in was rather ornate, but there did not seem to be anyone wandering around the halls at this time. Naomi almost felt like some sort of investigative journalist, wanting to snoop around for a bit. She quickly gave into her instinct, and she slowly opened the door leading out into what seemed to be the main hall. A door at the end of the hall to her right seemed to be the entrance to the place, and she quickly made her way out before anyone could see her and stop her for questioning. That was the last thing that she needed, really--being asked questions that she did not know the answer to.

The evening air was cool. Naomi enjoyed that about this evening. The anachronisms of the automobiles and carriages gave it a sort of quaint feeling, to be honest, but she wondered what had happened between when she fell asleep last and when she woke up--certainly nothing, really--

It was now that Naomi spied someone in an alleyway talking to himself--herself? The hair was sort of short, but the figure looked more feminine than masculine. She did not want to be rude at all, but at the same time, there was no way that she could continue on at all in this place without knowing where exactly she was.

Naomi approached quietly, clearing her throat when she was certain the woman could hear her. "Um, excuse me? I think I'm... sort of lost," she explained quietly. "I fell asleep in my bed back in Chicago and, well... woke up in this place, wherever it is. Would you happen to know where this place is, or is it just one of my fever dreams again?" Hopefully, this woman would not think of Naomi as a regular crackpot from that question...