She trailed her hand along the wall, feeling the coarseness of the stone bite into the soft pads of her fingertips. Her footsteps echoed, a hollow, lonely sound that spoke of her insignificance and mortality. Quiet, fearful pants turned to gasping coughs as dust swirled up in resentful swarms to protest her intrusion into their shrine to time. Then, without warning, the solid reassurance of the rock gave way to a gaping vacuum that reached out and jerked her in.
The road to Elle 