It looked like Las Vegas, but not the real Las Vegas. The Vegas of movies and television. Bright and shiny, neon signs everywhere advertising casinos and call girls. "Come to the Gemini," one of the the signs exclaimed, "you'll have twice the fun!"
I looked at the writer and found he was now wearing a tuxedo. I looked down and realized I was wearing one, too. Then I looked at Tulip.
She was wearing a red dress. If I thought the wedding dress looked good on her, the red dress looked even better. She had elbow length red gloves on as well and her hair no longer looked dirty or stringy -- it looked curled and elegant. I felt my own hair -- which I had been cutting for years, not trusting the barbershop -- and realized mine was better as well.
"It's not a place you come to looking like we did," the writer explained. "This is the place where dreams are made. Not good dreams, mind you. Most of them are bad."
A man emerged from one of the casinos. "Ah, newcomers!" he yelled. "Come, come! Choose one of these fine casinos! Place any bets you like! We take all wagers!"
"What shall we wager?" the writer asked.
"Well," Tulip said, "what do we need?"
"We're here," the writer said, "and now that we've crossed it off the list, we need to go."
"Ah, an exit, an egress," the man from the casino said. "We have plenty of those."
"An exit to where we were before?" I asked.
The man's smile faltered. "Well," he said, "no, not exactly. The exits here lead many places, but none you'll recognize. And to enter any of them, you'll need to put something up."
"Our lives?" Tulip said.
"No, we already have those," the man said.
"Our dreams," the writer said. "If we lose, you can have our dreams."
The man smiled. "That'll do nicely. We always need things to trade with the Reverie. Come with me." He clapped his hands. "We're off."
"Where?" I asked.
"Where else?" he said. "Now that you're in Oz, we're off to see the Wizard."
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