|The Third Ubiquitous Page.|
This page is all about
| Here we are, we are here! It is hot up in the Ceiling. All day long, we sweat as we suck in the scent of the glue with the hot, heavy air. The sweat makes our skin slick, and grips become treacherous. From below there are the sounds of the machines, all day long. They hum, they roar, they rattle, they make shuffling sounds, they beep. It is loud enough up there that we can talk to one another about the dreams the glue gives us without fear of being overheard.
The air in the Ceiling is thick with cardboard fibers. The little fibers make a fine, furry dust on all the places that we do not touch often. You must be careful, up here, not to knock any down onto one of the Box People. The little clod will make clouds of dust behind it as it falls, and they will see where it came from, if they are looking.
And they are definitely looking.
I alone of the Ceiling People like to travel; the others have their safe-spots, shrouded with cobwebs, furry dust, and pipes, that they do not leave from the time the Box People arrive in the morning, until they leave at night. I like to make my way amongst the struts, the pipes, and the wires, risking capture and death in order to see things that the others will never see.
That is how I discovered The Light.
I was in the Shipping Area, watching the trucks leave for the places I will never go, when suddenly a great light burst from the ceiling. I was almost blinded, and hung there amazed and frightened. There was consternation amongst the Box People below me. They got out of their beeping, whizzing forklifts and stood together and pointed up at the dazzling rays spearing down from the Ceiling.