Numismatist's Collection of Non-Monetary Portals by Kerem ISIK

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And when everything came to a standstill as abruptly as they had begun, I saw him.

The numismatist was riding on what appeared to be a horse with wheels. His lower body was that of a rabbit and a huge half eaten green carrot trailed the weird couple. I could swear on everything that is most dear to me that his chest hair spelled "Donut" but then again it's hard to look for sense in a place sense has fled. A tiny jasper's hat covered his bald head and he kept on cracking a whip that resembled a giant elastic fluorescent light. I had never seen him happier, a colossal smile leaked out of his thin mouth with every crack of the fluorescent whip and every neigh of the wheeled horse.

"Lhimkid. Hey, Lhimkid!"

Hearing my name amidst all this nonsense and then blinking to see Stim's poked head staring at me felt like coming out of a coma.

"Are you all right?"

I dropped the coin and it went rolling under my bed. I was back in my small room, the curtains still danced and the reading light cast a dim yellow light. I felt weak, and yet elated, tranquil.

"Lhimkid. What's wrong? I couldn't sleep. I missed my bed."

And yes, I was also back to my small world where I was a nurse under interrogation, and where Stim was the same old Stim.

"Yes Stim, sure we can talk. We can talk all night."

I still keep that weird blue coin, but never again did I have the courage to stare at it for as long as I did that night. But whenever I feel low, out of sorts with a sense of having no place to go to I take it out and play with it for a while, after all Dudd may be right. Maybe true places were not meant to be in maps.