The desert sky contorts its face in pain. White streaks like the glitches of heat tangles and fold into each other, thus, OASIS is born. From the screeching tears of time, a woman appears. The creation of matter brings forth a flurry of wind which whips thoughtlessly around her, threatening to untwine the leather briefcase from around her wrist.  A hospital gown made from tissue paper hugs her body to keep from blowing away into the wilds like some sterilized tumbleweed. Even the  little red wagon she drags behind her, saddles with an ancient Macintosh 512K bucks from the spot of sandstorm.

Jordan first unties the attache from her left, then the battery pack and computer cord from her right, letting the black plastic handle of the wagon fall into the burgundy earth. She throws the briefcase before her and crouches down, undoing the latches, snatching a bound moleskin from within, and flipping it open to the first page. Almost lazily, she reads, the traveler's creed splayed between her fingers like a hand of card.

"One must not form permanent attachments." She squints as she surveys the area, seeing nothing but auburn sand and a half-buried gambler hat made out of midnight. "Should be easy enough." Then she sidles over, the wagon weakly squeaking, and picks up the hat, leaving only the desert behind.

Jordan fits the gambler snugly over her fading brown braid and clicks her boots together. Two boot-lookin clouds of rust float in the sky for a frame before falling to the crowd. She lets the size of her new hat win, and tilt her head back, this time looking with brave retinas wide and unflinching into the sun which sets not west but in the only direction which exists anymore, forward.

She packs her things, the Creed fresh in her mind, and sets out on a journey that will never end. The Macintosh 512K waggles in its wagon, projecting classified documents behind like bumper stickers on a minivan for the bobcats and coyotes to read and ignore. The briefcase swings back and forth with purpose. The woman walks through the wilds of an hourglass as if moving against time. And an unnoticed jackalope bounds forever after her.

Congratulations again, to the winner of The Hacker minigame,
Jordan Baxter, by odinvincent2011