It must be a good thing, wearing the band. You soon feel better than ever before, as if you were sailing on a pink cloud... except you wonder, just a bit, whether you made the right decision, “though you don't think much more about it, because the sun must have set on your pink cloud, for the edges are turning  darker...

As you slip into the night—dreaming that you are drifting through time—faster now, whirling faster through time, then slowing, drifting less fast, more slowly through time, now dreaming more slowly, more slowly still... until...  time... stops.

/ENDING Nº03/