"You fools!" we cried. "You fools! You thrice-damned fools!"
We swung our fist through the windowpane,
and we leapt out in a ringing rain of glass.
We fell, but we never let the box fall
from our hands. Then we ran. We ran
blindly, and men and houses streaked past
us in a torrent without shape. And the road
seemed not to be flat before us, but as if
it were leaping up to meet us, and we waited
for the earth to rise and strike us in the
face. But we ran. We knew not where we
were going. We knew only that we must
run, run to the end of the world,
to the end of our days.
Then we knew suddenly that we were lying
on a soft earth and that we had stopped.
Trees taller than we had ever seen
before stood over us in great silence.
Then we knew. We were in the Uncharted Forest.
We had not thought of coming here,
but our legs had carried our wisdom, and
our legs had brought us to the Uncharted
Forest against our will.
Our glass box lay beside us. We crawled to it,
we fell upon it, our face in our arms, and we lay still.
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