The rolling waves of grain before me stretch beyond the horizon moating a sinking golden castle, which rests upon a hilltop that lies farther away than the grasp of my longest journey. I tip my hat to the fellow beside me, as to bid farewell. And prior to my first step he reveals and gifts to me: a pocket-watch which tells no time, and bears in place of a clock's reading, a mirror; He speaks,

"When the rays of the setting sun beyond have fallen and risen once more, to kiss away the merited wrinkles of age, you have reached your horizon."

With that I nod, step forward, and depart; for the pilgrimage ahead is to be the longest, and the sweetest...