"Muttering from a toothless mouth, the old woman warned. 'There’s only ever
forwards or backwards, Alice. Never go Sideways because that will make you a Sideways
Person, and you might never find your way home.'

Like every morning before, Alice wandered the dirty streets in her beloved red coat,
which was growing far too small but, unlike other mornings, Alice wandered into the Old
Quarter. There was no one to wake there, but Alice was following the silver trail. The sun
replaced the moon, so it was no longer dark, but swirly and grey. The only sound was the
noise her feet made against the stone. Like muffled footsteps. Alice felt small, insignificant,
and the usually peaceful silence grew restless. If she’d faltered, she would’ve known that
silence shouldn’t be restless, and the sky had no business being draped so low.

Alice was a Knocker-Upper, but it didn’t occur to her she might be waking something
up. As blue eyes stared into the black eye, Alice knew, too late, she was

Sideways People now."