by Amy L. Hull


The train clattered south from Aberdeen, the shuddering more like the TARDIS than Sarah expected. Technologies so different should feel...different.

The landscapes were dually familiar. Ancient stones and structures resembled Exxilon, Scotland, or Karn. Moors recalled London 10,000 years hence. Forests reminded her of Renaissance Italy and Zeta Minor. Rolling hills shifted in her mind to the razed surfaces of Mars, Kastria and Skaro.

Cottages and apartments streamed past. Travelling with the Doctor she'd seen so few homes the concept had become alien. Her forehead against the cold window, she knew home might elude her, might be always moving.