7
The blue waters of sleep called him unto them. He jumped in. And landed with a thud. The sea, it turned out, was merely drawn on canvas.
The dream ended, and the dream within a dream began. Somewhere in the far reaches of his boundlessness, N. was sitting reading a certain Book of Meros. And he was marvelling at the fact that not only had he read it before, but had even absorbed it, all without his slightest participation. It was that kind of book.
What do we know about the mysterious Book of Meros? A papyrus scroll, found in due course in the Desert of the Unthinkable, a book which rendered the occupation of chronicler superfluous. Down the endless coils riders gallop, chariots whirl, swords clink, cities crumble. The scroll consumes everything which has happened since the dawn of cr
