While weaving through the milk-white columns and walking down the stairs that didn't lose a single ounce of their glow even at night, I felt so completely at ease that, even though I knew it wasn't a real moon, I joyfully gazed at the crescent hanging in the sky.
Finally, the show—which closely resembled a high-quality stage play—was coming to an end. At least, that was the case for us. The Fourth Wall had been shattered; the thin membrane separating reality from the world created by the play performed on stage had been ripped wide open.
You guys know what the Fourth Wall is, right? Or maybe you don't; in that case, I better give you a quick rundown. Imagine you're at a theater watching a play; you're sitting in the front row, and the actors on stage are probably visualizing a script written by someone whose brain operates completely differently from a normal person's.
