A man once lived in a city where life was effortless, graceful and beautiful. Fruit hung ripe on all the trees and the fountains ran with whatever you wanted to drink. The man lived there for many years, or, since years weren’t kept track of in the beautiful city, for as long as he could remember. So far, so good. One morning he woke up outside the city walls. He didn’t try to make too much of this and walked back into the city where he continued to live in style and ease. But again next morning he woke up outside of the city, and the morning after that as well. Each morning he was a little farther out into the desert, so that it took him longer to walk back to the city’s gates. You see where this is going? Eventually he had to jog all the time just to stay inside the city, and soon after that even running as fast he could he fell behind and watched as the city slowly pulled away and moved towards the horizon, where it seemed to hesitate for just a moment and then dive down the other side. He stopped and caught his breath. For all its speed the city appeared to be traveling in a straight line. If he kept following it at least he’d be moving in the direction of the place where he wanted to be. He looked back the other way, where the desert lay. Actually at this point it was desert wherever he looked, but he thought in terms of only two directions, towards the beautiful city or into the desert. He wondered if the desert was endless, and if not, what was on its other side. What really decided him was that like it or not he was in the desert already. And so, not without some trepidation, off he set.