Often, after midnight, Mr. Love would come across a television broadcasting notable programs of former decades. Tonight he saw a very young Clive expounding upon a theory which had gained the attention of math professors the world over.

Convinced he’d been pulled into an alternate universe whose ingress had been enabled by his rigorous mathematical theorizing, Clive moved through Joachín’s underground network with intentness and verve.

As Pim and Bim ingurgitated tasty edibles into their taught, slender bellies, they were joined by the Well-Dressed Albatross, the diner’s sole other patron at this hour.

Finally, under darkened skies portending inclement weather, Pim and Bim came upon a oasis of sustenance.

The mountains gave onto an open plain upon which shone not one but two suns.

Having encountered neither a single inhabitant nor an open restaurant, Pim and Bim were soon on the other side of the village and back on the open road. Silent, though each aware of the other.

Descending into the town itself Pim and Bim found it less unfamiliar than they might have imagined.

Having worked for days lodged in the entrance of Joachín’s burrow (and lost weight in the process) Clive fell into the burrow at the moment he’d completed a theory that demystified age old conundrums of time and space.

Bim, who was better acquainted with T’ang poetry than Pim, recounted an ancient legend. While navigating a stream lined with peach blossoms, a fisherman had discovered an idyllic society buried in the mountains. And in later years he tried unsuccessfully to return to it.

Being amphibious Pim and Bim easily travelled oceans and rivers to the other side of the world.