Regen’s in a white gulf, and he can see pretty far. To his left there’s a girl shredding paper to make a trail, but the breeze keeps stealing it away: she walks in circles. Behind him, a girl and a boy try to fix a leaky bucket with a straw.

Regen realizes he’s on a precipice. “Come across the bridge, Regen,” says his father urgently from the other side. The bridge is a narrow arch, but it looks safe. Regen’s pretty sure it’s just the top of a wheel.

“No thank you,” says Regen, who had a fine exemplar of politeness.