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And I felt a clear sense of purpose that lacked direction. I was not confused. I realized that the walk was important. Suddenly I saw, from a great distance, a structure that knew not whether to be a house, a mausoleum or a monastery. Somehow that provided me comfort. Then I found myself inside the cross hatch of beams and joists and partially exposed studs. I felt the wind, now cool, racing through the glassless windows. As it moved to fill the empty rooms it moaned that it was God and the end of God. Without fear I understood its meaning. It was then that the glassless windows closed. I was no longer able to see outside and began to feel a rising panic running against my racing heart, a race to find the door, a door, any door that would release me from the wind. Somehow I knew that what I'd thought I was had come undone. (An edit of the revision by Rose Boehm, October 2011).