The Burger-Hut buzzed with the familiar chaos of a roadside diner: a pair of locals at the counter argued about grain prices, the waitress sighed as she lazily wiped down tables, patties sizzled on the grill, cutlery clattered, and a coffee machine hissed in the corner.
Sophie and David finished their burgers, and she, still giggling at his "witch made of erogenous zones" joke, wiped ketchup from her fingers. But when the waitress slapped the bill down—a crumpled slip with 18.50 in some unfamiliar currency—they exchanged uneasy glances. The same thought struck them both: would their money even work in a world with two suns?
David patted his pockets, pulled out his wallet, and looked skeptically at his bank card.
"If this doesn't go through," he muttered, "we'll be stuck washing dishes. Or whatever passes for repayment here when you eat without cash."
The waitress, a sturdy woman with tired eyes, rolled over the payment terminal. Bracing for failure, David slid the card through. Seconds stretched. Sophie held her breath, her hand squeezing his knee under the table.
Beep.
"Payment accepted," the waitress grunted, snatching the terminal away.
They both exhaled at once, grins breaking across their faces.
"Well then, we belong here now!" Sophie declared, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Isn't that strange, though?" David asked, frowning. "Reality cracks open at the seams, and here we are stuffing our faces with burgers, laughing like the world's some private amusement ride built just for us."
Sophie nodded, giving him a conspiratorial wink.
"Exactly," she said. "As if we didn't just fall into this place—but claimed it. And honestly? I like it. Feels like anything is possible."
David sipped his cola, set the cup down, and his tone shifted, his professor's cadence slipping back in.
"You know what I keep wondering? Maybe one day I'll wake up strapped to a hospital bed with a schizophrenia diagnosis. Or maybe I'll just wake in my own apartment. What if this is just the ravings of a lunatic—or a dream?"
"I have no idea," Sophie admitted. Then she smirked. "But as long as I'm still in your dream, let's find a place to sleep. I'm exhausted."
They stepped out to the car, leaving behind empty plates and crumpled napkins. Outside, two suns poured their light across the endless steppe. The grass rustled in the wind, and somewhere ahead, another twist in their mad story waited for them.