She stands facing a narrow corridor of brilliant yellow light that extends on straight as a dataline to infinity. Something approaches out of the farthest reaches of the corridor. At first it looks like a simple rectangular icon. The rectangle swiftly evolves into a sort of booth, like from a carnival arcade. Two meters tall, trimmed in elaborate swirls of gold, with a transparent pane like a window. On the other side of the window sits something like a big life-sized puppet of a gypsy lady: eyes like pits; black hair wrapped in a bandanna; ears, neck, and arms loaded with gaudy jewelry; blood red talons adorning each finger.