A Visitor

A experimental paragraph I wrote describing an environment and a fictitious character's reaction to it.

     Sam opened his eyes, the ringing sound faded away as the last streaks of blue cleared from his vision.  He sat up, looked around, and found that he was in a forest.  A very ancient forest by the look; old gnarled trees with massive limbs reaching in all directions stood at regular intervals from each other.  He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out for the smell of the forest was not, as one might expect, musty or rotten but fresh and energizing.  He stood, began to walk around, and smiled.  The sun shone down in great shafts between the branches of the trees, illuminating the thick oak leaves.  As he walked, all was quiet except for a slight breeze which rustled in the leaves overhead.  It was not an eerie quiet but a peaceful and yet surreal quiet.  This was no wonder to Sam of course, the places those strange doors led to always seemed so very real while at the same time carried a hint of replication, like a painting which looks realistic but at the same time is just a painting.  If only I knew it were real, he thought.  He walked over to one of the trees and brushed his hand against its rough bark.  He stood there for what seemed like only a few minutes, but could have been hours, when he was startled back to his senses by a beeping sound.  He looked down at the small digital stopwatch on his right arm which read 00:10 and counting.  “Time to go,” he said aloud, then returning to where he had lain before lay down and waited.  The stopwatch continued beeping with every second that passed, 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . 0 . . . .  Suddenly the trees, the light, the moss on the rocks all flickered blue and in a second, was gone.