It’s a scientific fact that anyone
entering the distance will grow smaller. Eventually becoming
so small he might only be
found with a telescope, or, for
more intimacy, with a microscope. . . .
But there’s a vanishing
point, where anyone having penetrated the distance must disappear
without hope of his ever returning,
leaving only a memory of his ever having been.
But then there is
fiction, so that one is never really sure if it was someone who
vanished into the end of seeing, or someone
made of paper and ink. . . .