He’s almost forgotten what the world looked like before the ladder. Climbing the ladder was merely the result of curiosity. Living off the fruits that grew on the plants, those endless mazes of branches and leaves that kept him company on his way, turned out to be surprisingly easy and even pleasant. Sleeping was no difficulty either. Some of those branches seemed to be made for sleeping.
But why he kept on climbing was another matter. The curisoity wore off after a week or so. But then he thought what if the end was just a little ahead. So he climbed, on and on, until living and climbing became synonyms.
He no longer longs for the ground, nor for the land he used to imagine he would reach by climbing. Life is a ladder. The world is a maze of branches.
Apparitions 