The true path passes through a tent that isn't stretched high above but just slightly above the ground. It seems more designed to trip over than to walk on. Again, again exiled far away, exiled far away. The journey inevitably passes through mountains, deserts, and vast lands.

We were dazzled by the moonlit night. Birds squawked from tree to tree, the fields rustled. We crawled in the dust, a pair of snakes.