Sleep, Fall, Rise. You are at the edge of a silent world, stood on the border between *fantasy* and the dream-stuff which encloses it. A million unknowable colors gleam at your back: the soup of all thought and un-thought rippling with potentia, sparks of it, star-tinseled. That is where you came from. Before you lie tall gates. Twin masterworks of silver and pearl which kiss the clouds. They glint at you dismissively, but perhaps you won't heed that. <p> <center>*For beyond them ...