the sole heroic act that he imagined himself capable of would be to one day fade into oblivion as easily and readily as his shadow
at last he stood on native soil, yet remained groundless still.
he was content knowing that the world would remain conjecture.
he had settled into a solitude that he shared with all.
increasingly he found himself resting, like things, in that twilight between.
walking along the path, he looked up, only to realize that he was moving not through space, but through himself.