Dewin continued to fall. He fell . . .

and he fell . . .

and he fell . . .

and he fell . . .

and he fell . . . 

and he fell . . .

and he fell . . . 

and he fell . . . 

and he fell . . . 

and he fell . . . 

and he fell . . . 

Sometime later Dewin closed his eyes and went to sleep. And he slept . . .

and he slept . . .

and he slept . . . 

and he slept . . .

and he slept . . .

and he slept . . .

and he slept . . .

and he slept . . .

and he slept . . . 

and he slept . . . 

and he slept . . .

Dewin dreamt of many things. He dreamt of damsels in distress, dragons, dungeons and green pastures. He also dreamt about falling. And falling . . . 

and falling . . .

and falling . . . 

and falling . . .

and falling . . . 

and falling . . .

and falling  . . . 

and falling . . .

and falling  . . . 

and falling . . . 

and falling.

(All right, I (the writer) am going to end this because it's getting a bit tedious for me.)

Finally, and with a soft gentle thud, Dewin landed gracefully on solid ground. 'Thank goodness for that.'

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