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I entered this Universe some time ago.

Initially, just to sightsee. You know, glide around a little, take in the milky ways and the dusty swirls, all these stars large and small, and all these planets green and brown and blue, some with purple plains and sandy deserts, some with gray black mountains draped in trees some and capped in white others, some neither. Many frantic oceans, too, and many placid seas. All very varied and quite pleasing, I must say.

Drifting in for a closer look at some of these planets, I saw roads and wagons and gates and guards and many people, he called them.

Drifting in closer still, I saw steady hands under furrowed brows brighten white canvas with color and warmth to capture trees and mountains, painting, he called it.

I heard symmetry of sound from throats and hands on strings, music he called it.

And I saw many feet move in delicate delicious rhythm, dance, he called it, and they seemed to enjoy it, these what he called people.

And drifting closer still, I heard laments by lovers wronged, I saw seductions soft, and stark betrayals, brutal slayings and happy resurrections.

I saw brother helping brother, sister leaving sister, son trusting father, daughter hating mother, or at least that is how he explained these odd happenings to me, my dragoman. Though, to be honest, I could not see the truth of these things for they had no pattern to them, not like what he called music or dance.

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