When you walk down this road, you forget. But that is not how it begins.

She stands at the edge of the gravel path, and looks down as far as she can see: gravel, more gravel, and the bony trees. The sky is the same shade for everyone who stands in this place, but each individual determines the hue. She sees ash, bone ash, ash melting into the trees whose bony fingers reach up and clasp hands from the earth's wrists. She sees these things, and out of the mind's periphery. Think of it like a boardgame. Players, of which she is one, may only advance one square at a time. They may not return to a square they reached previously, except by circling the board. No one, not even the player herself, knows how long the board might be, or if it will even be possible to circle around.