He awakes some time later, unsure of how much time has passed. From his position on the ground, he finds a surprising and dizzying level of detail in the grit of the concrete slab. He lays where he is, afraid to move for fear of his injury.

Time passes.

The sky flows across the sea of clouds, a jigsaw of cliffs and streams. Somewhere, he knows, Mary is watching. He is unsure how he finds himself so sure of this. And yet, nothing has ever seemed so solid. He watches the wisps gather overhead like an impending tsunami.

Seconds pass, or perhaps eons. The man watches from the ground as clouds turn to stone. It is a cosmic dance, and yet can only hold his attention for so long. He begins to assess his body, focusing on his leg. Confused, he stands and looks down. The temple is gone, replaced by a field of bones.

He looks westward. The sun is rising, and light is pouring from his cup into the plains.

A bird wheels through the sky above him. The feeling of this place is strange, but he has not felt so young in decades. He smiles, and begins to jog through the sea of sprouting grains. Perhaps there is a new destination for his heart. His quest will continue.