I felt dry, and hot.
I looked around, I saw sand. Lots of sand. Dunes, big open spaces, all sand. There was a tower. It was made of blue stone and looked cooler than the rest of the terrain for miles around it. I crawled towards it, spreading my fingers out so I wouldn’t sink down into the brown grainy dust. I scooted closer and closer, and when I reached it I realized how large it was. It was indescribably tall, and had a gargantuan circumference. My heart sunk when I scanned the area I could see and found no door. It would take days, if not a couple weeks to circle the whole thing. I sat against the cool stone, wanting to keep the temperature of my body low during the day so I wouldn’t slow or get sick from heat stroke or dehydration. I began to make my way around the gentle curve of the tower, keeping close to shiny, dark, stone as to keep my body from overheating. I crawled and crawled, and despite the cool conditions, began to tire rapidly. I was incredibly relieved when I saw the dark indentation of the walls, signaling that a door was there. I crawled the last few yards, hoping the door would not be too heavy. I reached the door and nearly laughed, except for the fact that I was exhausted. The door was a simple wooden door supported by thick iron bands. The hinges showed no sign of rusting so the door creaked open with little effort. The inside was neither cool nor warm. The walls shielded the harsh glare of the sun and strategically placed candles replaced it with a soft, welcoming glow. One would think that with that little light, and only on the outer walls, the room would be dark and foreboding. But no, despite the distance, in all of the spacious room, no nook or cranny was left untouched by the soft glow. There was a long, rectangular, table in the middle of the room with a smooth, silk, tablecloth stretched across all of it perfectly, with a foot of it hanging of each edge. I scooted to get a better view of the table and assisted myself in standing by grabbing a corner of the table and hoisting myself up. As I did so, I caught a glimpse of the high, domed, ceiling. There was a beautiful mural of the constellations sprawled across the curving surface. As I watched I saw that they were glowing with a soft golden shimmer, and were moving very slowly. I watched, amazed, as they drifted across the sky. Almost unable to peel my eyes of of the magical image, I tore my view from the ceiling to the far wall, where a large map lay, bordered in a gilded wooden frame. In the center of it was a blue circle, indicating the tower. It looked as if wherever you were in this territory on the map that you could still see the tower. There were a few skylights high up, inset into both the wall and ceiling. The carpet was beautiful. It was weaved out of golden, navy, and maroon silk. As I examined it, I realized that it was a gigantic compass rose. Looking up, I saw that they also corresponded with the four windows. North, south, east, and west. I could see the sun in the east window, and assumed that this was a certain habitat that the sun only rose from the east instead of various degrees of north and southeast. Apart from the huge fireplace, enormous table, and other features of the room, he had not seen the stairs yet. This was a tower, right? Right, there they were. By the west window there is a shadow created by stairs, I crawled towards it. As I gazed up the curving stairwell I wondered how long it would take to get to the top of the tower. ¨Well then,¨ I whispered, ¨I had better get started.¨