IridescentCatalyst

The T.A.R.D.I.S. wheezed and groaned as it softly landed in a familiar street. With his stern look, the Twelfth Doctor pushed a lever, but paused before continuing. He then left the orange glow of the console, opened the wooden doors, and exited into the night. His attire was a more casual version of his traditional suit. Street lights lit the quiet street lined with houses. One house in particular drew his attention. This was his intended destination. Through the illuminated windows, he could vaguely see an aged man. As he advanced towards him, his brain screamed in protest, but it was too late to turn back now. The closer he got to the hou

As I looked out the window and saw a blue police box in the rain, nostalgia flooded my thoughts. The phone box outside was not the one I was thinking of, sadly. That one belonged to a great man who could never return to me, even if he wanted to. Everything would be ripped apart if he ever did, as the angels had trapped my husband and I in the past with no way to escape. In addition, they specifically sent us to around the mid twentieth century, when police boxes - real police boxes - were still in use. It almost seemed as if they were mocking or taunting us, only adding to my hatred against them. Someone then ran to the phone box and stepped