@perl He collected the plastic trash on a daily basis. It never seemed to end. Even if he cleaned the entire beach, more plastic would cover it the next day after the tide had come in. Although it was a futile effort that would never be done, he continued to pick up the trash each day.
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He was after the truth. At least, that's what he told himself. He believed it, but any rational person on the outside could see he was lying to himself. It was apparent he was really only after his own truth that he'd already decided and was after this truth because the facts didn't line up with the truth he wanted. So he continued to tell everyone he was after the truth oblivious to the real truth sitting right in front of him.
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The desert wind blew the tumbleweed in front of the car. Alex swerved to avoid the tumbleweed, but he turned the wheel a bit too strong and the car left the road and skidded onto the dirt median. He instantly slammed on the brakes and the car stopped in a cloud of dirt. When the dust cloud had settled and he could see around him again, he realized that he'd somehow crossed over into an entirely new dimension.
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