Okay, okay he thought to himself, fighting down the sense of fear mingled with confusion that was quickly threatening to take over his last shreds of sanity, there's got to be a logical explanation.. Absently, he sat down on a nearby bench, head in his hands, thinking. I died. That's what they said. And this is my world, and it isn't.. WHY isn't it? Johnny couldn't put his finger on it. All that he knew was that it was very clear beyond a shadow of a doubt to him that he had died, and that this world seemed familiar, but was all slightly askew. Everything seemed frightfully normal, except that it wasn't. It was as if Johnny had grown up in a Picasso painting, and suddenly seeing the world had right angles and order was as shocking and hard to understand as if all these normal people were suddenly transported to a Cubist planet. No, he had definitely died. But he was definitely back. This thought occurred to Johnny and he thought with a modicum of alarm that maybe he wasn't really back. Very cautiously he poked his arm. It was solid. Cautiously he tested the pavement with his foot. It didn't move. This doesn't look like hell, he thought, looking around. But it's certainly not my heaven, either.
"No, Johnny. Your heaven was at the beach. That's a touch blasphemous, you know."
Johnny jumped and fell off the bench in surprise. He looked around for the voice, but no one on the streets was paying attention to him; walking to work, to their cars, or about on errands.
A plump, greasy street vendor in jeans and a stained white tshirt looked at him sideways, apparently thinking he was crazy. Johnny stood up and brushed himself off.
"Lemminade?" the vendor asked in an unfamiliar combination of accent and speech impediment, holding up a clear cup of light blue liquid with magenta ice cubes. Johnny stared at it. He shook his head, as if to clear it, and stared again. The liquid was pale yellow, the ice cubes clear. The guy was apparently still waiting for an answer. "It's real, man, not that powdred junk. Have a cup, help clear your mind. You look like you gots some troubles today."
"Err..how much?" Johnny asked.
Johnny's nerves shot, he reached still-shaking hands into the pocket of his trousers, scrounging for money.
Next: err.. who? Nanikore, does this go the same all the time?
I think it's either bobsgirlfriend or Jeffrock. He seems to keep passing though.