The street I live on is a "reality palimpsest", with three different versions of itself layered transparently on top of each other. Getting home requires navigating all three at once.

The street exists simultaneously in three states: our current bleak, cyberpunk reality; a hyper-saturated, saccharine candyland from a timeline that took a weird turn; and a silent, black-and-white film noir world. They are all here, all at once, shimmering and overlapping. My actual apartment building is in this reality, but the front door is technically in the film noir version, so I have to adopt a weary, cynical attitude to get it to open. The sidewalk is part of the candyland layer, so it's made of sticky gingerbread that makes my cybernetic boots glitch. To top it off, my keys only exist in the cyberpunk layer. Every day is a disorienting journey through three conflicting aesthetics and sets of physical laws just to get to my front door.