It was a day to make all days, incredible, the weather could not have been more pristine. You know the kind of day that can sooth even the most tortured soul. No? Well take the most wondrous day that you have experienced and attempt to imagine that day more perfect beyond what boundaries physics provide. The man was running this day. The man did not grow tired for such things were beyond him at this point. Which is a good thing for when you are in a race with fate, you would enjoy the ability to not grow tired yourself. The run was almost straight uphill. As nasty as uphill slopes come for that matter, the mountain had never had its peak achieved. Today that would change; it would change because it had to. The more complex elevations, which would have taken other men hours his determined limbs mastered in mere moments. Effortlessly he ascended, if a bird overhead were to describe the progress it would have to be a precise blur of movement that was one with the mountain.

But nothing was watching the man, nothing natural anyway. "I will reach the summit first". The thought continuously echoed through his mind. "I must". He increased his pace seemingly in proportion with the difficulty of the trail he blazed. As if the closer he came to the summit the more one with the world on this day of all days he was. He reached the summit with such momentum that he nearly overshot it by simply rushing right past to the other side. He was there and he had won. Elation, freedom, release and pleasure with a side of pure exhilaration. He was here, he was alone he had won. The whole world was there for him cheering for him. He took a moment to take it all in. It was stunning. He scanned the broad horizon the fields and forests perfect greens; the lakes, oceans and sky perfect blues and finally the sun a wondrous yellow. Tears were streaming down his face this was the world he raced for this was utopia and he had saved it, he had won. He was invited to become one with it and he of course opened himself to it.

Only then with his greatly extended senses did he notice it far off in the distance. A thing that could be only described as a disturbance. Doubt shot through him "have I really won?" He focused on the disturbance trying to right it. Trying to untie the knot in this perfect reality. The more he attempted to smooth out the disturbance the more it seemed to grow, the more weight it seemed to have. It soon developed gravity. Not gravity as we would imagine it pulling things into itself, more like the way water goes down a drain A cyclone of pressure, a cyclone of destruction. "NO!" He would not let it take away his newfound existence. He willed everything to remain and resist the horrible calling shifting gravity. It was like a grand incarnation of the battle of change and everyone's resistance to it. It seemed to be a stalemate the utopia refusing to give into the gravity, and the gravity refusing to not exist. But unlike the utopia, the gravity was growing stronger. Out of desperation the man who was now the world tried to harden to firm up. As the world answered that last request the gravity made a powerful pull. Existence began to crack. The pain was unreal. Then it all gave out and shattered. The shards flew away into the nothingness the gravity promised. The man who no longer was felt himself be consumed, the last things he could conceive were shards of a mirror twisting and turning reflecting a dreamland before they too were to fade into the darkness. "I didn't try hard enough... I never try hard enough". Then all was black.