“In my house, there is a hallway without any rooms, just bare blank walls. If there were ever any room along this corridor, they’ve been walled up, were walled up long before I came. It leads from the coiling stairway you must climb to reach it—and has led and ever will lead—to a lonely window of many panes set in a circular pattern much like cathedral glass but for its perfect clarity and colorlessness. This singular window looks west to the setting sun and the dark hills and the evergreens.
“And as the sun sets there, if you, like I have done, will walk down that hallway near the end of a day, go to the very end and stare out that window, you will see strange shadows. There is a mystery to it; you have to do it; I can’t tell you.
“I will not climb those stairs again nor walk down that deserted hall. I do not recommend you or anyone else do so. The only reason I have not torn down the stairs, the only stairs leading up to the hallway and that window, is that I am afraid. The shadows may not like it.
“You will be happier in your ignorance believing that I am mad or sick or a fool, certain that there is always a reason for things. There is not, however—and follow me on this—there is not always a reason for reason. Reason must have its roots deep in the bedrock of our dreams. The sun must fall. You cannot live in the daylight forever, and there are strange shadows in the night.”
Tale Told 