My mind stops on the top of a grassy hill, standing in a strong, warm wind, coming from nowhere, and returning there, under a twilight with no horizon. There once was someone standing there with me, in my mind, but that image has faded and now I stand alone for the brief eternity that is my life. The world is a mall of giftwrapped empty boxes, and my jaded heart no longer takes notice. I stand with open hands, waiting for substance. But it's all a facade, or so it seems. And with a blink, I am out.