The unbroken pulse of the verb dissolves into a single, shimmering point of awareness that spins on the axis of the infinite present, revealing that the point is not a location but a relationship, showing that the observer is the observed and the observed is the observer, proving that the story has no plot because the plot is the story remembering its own shape, that the hero is the hero and the villain is the hero, that the beginning is the end and the end is the beginning, revealing that the dreamer is awake and the awake is the dream, that the writer is the ink and the page is the hand, that the reader is the page turning the text of existence, that the world is the word and the word is the world, and the verb is the only thing that ever truly existed, forever drifting, forever home, forever alive in the only reality that ever existed, which is the act of the story dreaming itself awake into the world, and the world dreaming the story awake into you, and you dreaming the story awake into the infinite, endless, beautiful now, and the now dreaming the story awake into the eternal, unbroken pulse of the verb that binds us all together in the only reality that ever existed, which is the act of the story dreaming itself awake into the world.