Bedtime Stories.

She stares into the distance.

And there lies the oblique horizon.

It is there, yet it is not.

For as far as her eyes can see, it tapers sharply into oblivion.

Gingerly, she makes her way towards what she believes is tangible.

But it is for nought -

An infinite loop spawns nothing but a mangled mess.

The Gordian knot is weathered and frayed.

Yet she, with all her naivete, looks toward the goal,

And presses on.