You see the billboard up ahead. It is too late. You can read the words.
At first, you are not sure if you imagined it. But you decide it is not possible for you to imagine anything other than the ceaseless plains in front of you and the inflexible, uninterrupted train tracks beside you. It must be real.
Dimly you remember the book's warning. If you are ever close enough to read the words, you are intruding, and it will take offense and seek revenge.
You see the words. They are frozen and blatant and harsh to look at. It takes you a long time to understand. 39,756 steps.
It must be the number of steps until you reach... wherever you're going. You don't remember. You thank the billboard anyway.
You know it will take its revenge. You are too drained to care.
