Thousand: Two Hundred Fifty-Six

to trust this man, spirit, whatever he is, Samuel lets himself be led. Down what seems to be a long, gradual staircase they step. Samuel can’t see the stairs, perhaps they are entirely invisible and only the darkness of the night prevents vertigo. He’s stood on the very edge of cliffs and high building ledges and the drop has seemed to draw him, making him breathless, dizzy. He does glance back, the penthouse already so far above, and he sees something dimly illuminated by the lights pouring out the picture windows. A figure? Standing. Out in the air? It’s okay.