"No," Rincewind gloomily admitted. "No worries, I'll get by. It's what I do." He added, absentmindedly patting the sand off his pants. The peculiar scene seemed to be losing solidity, which was fine by him. The black sky clung to the ceiling, but the walls were walls once again. The sand had lost its unearthly quality. The figure waned.

"You don't happen to know the way out?"