Right before the Perkinsville Road can get properly going, you can look out across the Valley to the rim: space, full stop. Above this float the Peaks: exclamation point. Turn around and there's the Pit, a man-made echo: space, full stop. I go in: exclamation point. Thirteen years ago I spent New Year's Eve here, already history, like Y2K. Now, I'm my own future again. This year the Mayans have set up a brand new cycle. Space, ellipsis.