It is said that a house was built in the sky, once.

It was hung among the stars, held there with hope and good luck. It is said it was put there by those who had very much time and very little to do. They built the halls of silver and gold, and laid down floors of blue glass and green grass. And in this great hall that was built, draped in scarlet and silk, there was a man.

The man looked from where he was and saw very much; he saw Lady Earth in all her glory, smiling and spinning in peace. She was blue and green and white and still innocent, innocent and beautiful. The man looked up and saw Infinity, and saw that it was indeed as big as he had thought. So the man closed his eyes from her beauty and turned away from Infinity, and was asleep.

And so the man slept, and he dreamt. He dreamt of great and wonderful things, which shone so bright that they set his dreams ablaze. From the ashes rose others to greet him, to offer counsel and creativity in his world of make-believe. They shared their dreams with him, these travellers, and so he thanked them for it and bid them good-bye when their time was up. He was left, then, to dreams of his own design; to be alone, in both space and time.

Left to his dreams once more, the man was at peace. He dreamt of a place without boundaries, a place of hope and of life.  Words of love and light came from nowhere to him, and he heard them and was happy. He was sublime, this man, blissful in his sleep, until the whisper which shuddered across his existence; “Balance,” it said. The man heard this, and was awake.

With a great and terrible cry ripping out from his soul, the man was up and out of his dreams, and looking to Lady Earth once more. Looking in hope of a lie, of deceit, of a cruel and wicked joke, which he knew, of course, he would not find. To the Lady he asked, "How?" To Infinity, he asked, "When?" and to himself, he asked, "Why?"

He looked down and saw Lady Earth corrupted and black and spoiled and virgin no more; his dreamers had gone, and so had their dreams, and all they had left was the dried out husk of what was once considered life. Lady Earth was a graveyard, and the man wept.

And as he wept, he was cleansed, his mind, body and soul cleared of the rage he had held so close such a short time ago; he was fresh and ready, the man, and had made a decision which was not a choice at all. He would rest once more, and agree with the whisper, and seek balance. He would return to what he could do; to dream, to hope, and to the chance of life. He would dream once more.

So the man’s eyes were closed, and his body at rest, and the dreams, they did not come.

But still, he slept.