By choice, he fell, over softening florets of pounamu; through a haze in hue not unlike the veins of the bluest, most intricately canalled cheese, but instead, a transparent scent - that of ancient rocks - and the air whistled through, filling his nostrils, awakening every hair and surface; the tunnels that line, to cool thoughts, internal eternal, swirling mixed emotion and memory.
The Earth's floor approached, with detail increased, to scale, a hastened descent and accelerated heartrate, through no part of fear, but absorption of life; a quickening of blood, and drilling down through cells, past the visible, into quantum, wherein that point; the space that occupies so elementary a punctual particle.
But virtue through, and no reason of mind, in all that encompassed, was at its core; purity. From this well never could spring forth imbalance - not one that was for worse - not here, where only photons emanated, and yet those duality waves that outsped the light, and flowed faster than thought; those tachyons of destiny; known before, and echoing forever after; confusing perception of those without knowing, yet; passing within the breath of an eternal instant.
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