Then up, up, up the winding stair, now stone, now wood, now sparkling air, treading the path of a hundred billion souls who never were. A sacred sign beneath your feet, a lighted way in darkness deep, and fearsome death to left and right. Fear not. Hold tight. A synergy of power preserves, protects, propels, and soon all is light, and stardust, moondust, the dust of dreams and the cold pressed oil of wonders beyond our ken. A hundred singing towers upon the blue sands of distant everlen, a shivering symphony of alien tones, isolate one, then another, yet more, until the song is yours, and the door to the next mystery opens, beckons, a bright and shining gate, and we’re through, red giant eyes and comet tail hair and hand in hand and a kiss longer than the milky way and deeper than the sky.

Then down, down, through moon rings and sun beams and clouds, a rain of laughter, tears, iridescent motes of finely cut longings and the essence of desire, a powdered mortar of a million timeless moments, drifting, drifting, drifting, to this tiny space, this sliver of time, and the pi is only apple now, and the streetlights are back.