Title: The Wall
Writing: Short story
There's a bit of finesse that must go with walking Norm's streets. Over the slow arc of the Skral Bridge there's a flat stretch of pavement where the street vendors line their carts like soldiers readying themselves for battle (a term oddly appropriate for the afternoon rush), and further down, the path stops neatly at the tall hedges of a labyrinth of a garden. If you ask the policeman how to get through he will advise you to walk straight into the hedge. If you reexamine the hedge you'll find a stone wall behind it. Upon returning to the policeman who so kindly spoke with you earlier, you will be told that the hedge and the stone wall are simply illusions, and if you just ignore them you should be able to enter the garden. The illusions, he says, are precautions for the common people who are not meant to enter the garden. You, sir or madam, are. Meant to see the garden, he amends. So do go ahead now, and proceed. So. If you still hold faith in your (very legitimate) copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, you will take one breath of (smoke-filled, cough-inducing) invigorating air and walk straight into the hedge. And, well. You didn't see this coming at all.
When you get a faceful of leaves and thorns and a sorely bruised nose, it doesn't surprise you that the policeman is rolling around on the lawn in some kind of epileptic seizure of laughter.
Artist's note: I know that the policeman is crazy, and that I'm not very funny when I'm trying to be. this is just a really bad idea I decided to let run for several feet.