We drove to the lake because we couldn’t reach the ocean. The lake is to the ocean what the ocean is to space. And as we made our way toward our universe, as if slow motion, the water shimmered gently like a smile across its face. We removed our shoes before its silent invitation, then stepped into the coolness, let it carry us away from the lake down to the river, rushing through civilization, rushing through the humans, rushing on to reach the place where the ocean takes us over. We explode into a vapor, and guided by the moon, we rise and slowly drift away. We drove to the lake because we couldn’t reach the ocean; the lake is to the ocean what the ocean is to space.