It appears on the edges of things. In the emptiness of a suburban children’s playground at 4am. On a mountaintop on the farthest moon of an arid planet. Between two decks of a sleeping spacecraft crawling through the void. On a corner of ragged grass on an empty street at a city’s outer limit. In the centre of a vast crater on a smoking battlefield. Throughout all time and space, a blue box groans into existence.
Your time with the Doctor has passed. It may have been half a lifetime of travels, or it may have been a single frantic day. It doesn’t matter - it’s over now, and you have settled into a regular life. You go about your days, whatever they may entail, until…
You hear that familiar groaning, wheezing sound, somewhere not too far away. You can tell almost immediately that something is wrong. Usually, the noise stops.
Even as you reach it, and find it solidly materialised, the TARDIS still makes the sound of its arrival, getting louder and louder and louder. It sounds as though it is struggling to stay in this time and space.
The TARDIS is in trouble. The Doctor might be too. You push through the doors.
What are you doing when you hear the sound of the TARDIS?
Where do you find it?
How do you feel, as you enter?