I stand at the edge of a vast canyon, the wind tugging at my clothes and the sun casting long shadows across the jagged cliffs. The bridge that once spanned this gap lies in ruin, its ropes frayed and planks shattered. “Well?" A calm voice speaks behind me, startling me. I turn quickly to see someone standing there, serene as stone. "It's hopeless," I mutter, shaking my head. "The bridge is gone. I can't jump the gap, and there's no path around it. I don't see a way to get home." They consider my words in silence before finally saying, "I've got an idea." From their backpack, they retrieve an object wrapped in silk. Slowly, they unwrap it to reveal a golden fortune cookie. Breaking it in two, they pop half in their mouth and offer the other half to me. Reluctantly, I take it. The cookie crumbles in my mouth as they read the fortune aloud: _Close your eyes and help arrives._ "What? That doesn't make any—“ "Hey, what do we have to lose?" they interrupt with a smirk. "Just close your eyes and imagine a balloon. Just one. Floating right in front of you." I let out an incredulous laugh. "A balloon? Really? That's your big plan?" "Humor me," they insist, unbothered. "I've got a good feeling about this." Against my better judgment, I close my eyes and picture it: a red balloon with a long, curling string. "Okay," I say reluctantly. "I see it. Now what?" "Good. Now imagine another one. And another. Picture them multiplying, bursting into existence like popcorn in a hot pan." I roll my eyes but do as they ask. Gradually, a strange sensation brushes against my fingers--light and soft. "I think… I think I feel them," I whisper. "Perfect! Now hold on." "Do what?!" My breath hitches as I’m suddenly weighless. A sea of balloons, vivid and colorful, surrounds me, lifting me into the air. The wind roars past as I climb higher and higher, the canyon shrinking below. Before I can say anything, the balloons begin fusing together, forming a cocoon that hardens into the basket of a hot air balloon. "How did you do that?" I shout, gripping the edge. "I didn't do anything," they reply with a grin. "I just trusted my intuition. You see—“ "Tell your intuition to cool it!" I yell as the balloon jerks, tilting wildly. "We're going too high!" The basket wavers, and I feel us dropping. My heart races as I grip the sides, eyes still closed despite the situation’s gravity, or lack thereof. "What now?" Unfazed, they unwrap another fortune and read aloud: _Fall from the skies so that you may rise._ "We're good. Just keep your eyes closed," they assure me. Suddenly, I find myself seated in a rocket. The engines roar to life, and the rocket shoots forward, aiming for the far side of the canyon. I grip the controls tightly, my mind racing. I try to keep my eyes closed, clinging to the newcomer’s advice. “Just feel your way,” they had whispered. But as the rocket races forward, doubt overwhelms me. What if there isn’t enough fuel? What if we are off course? Fear claws at my chest, and I open my eyes, glancing at the fuel gauge. It’s empty! At that very moment, the engine sputters and stalls, causing the rocket to slow. We fall. “No!” I shout. “No, no, no!” Panic envelopes my mind. I can’t think, can’t move. All I can hear is the wind howling as the rocket veers toward the canyon floor. My heart pounds. I'm about to scream when I feel something in my hand. It's another fortune. I unwrap it with trembling fingers and read: _Best to look around before you hit the ground._ I spin in midair, searching frantically. Behind me, I spot a hard case labeled for emergency use only. After mentally kicking myself for my oversight, I grab it, crack it open, and find a single slip of paper: Put it on—now! Thinking I don’t need an invitation, I strap it on and hit the rocket’s eject button. The next thing I know, I'm launched upward. The pack unfurls itself into a hoverboard, and I land on it with surprising steadiness. I dive as a glowing roller coaster track materializes below me, stretching across the canyon. The hoverboard locks onto the track and races forward. Loops, spirals, sharp turns—I navigate them all, leaning into the wind, my fear giving way to exhilaration. The track clicks into place piece by piece as I speed ahead, faster and faster, until a massive ramp launches me into the air toward the far side of the canyon. But as I soar through the air, the hoverboard slows. I'm not going to make it. "No!" I cry, desperation clawing at my chest. I close my eyes. My hands shoot out blindly, grasping for anything, and I feel the rocky ledge beneath my fingers. With all my strength, I pull myself up, collapsing onto solid ground. When I lift my head, they are there, smiling. "We made it." I glare at them, still catching my breath. "You left me! Where did you go?" "I was never far," they say, their smile unwavering. "How did you get here?" I demand. "Guess." I scowl. "I don't know. What, did you have a jetpack?" They turn, revealing a gleaming jetpack strapped to their back, where earlier had been a simple backpack. I groan. "How? Who are you?” "I am you," they reply, their voice softening. "Or rather, the part of you that believes you can do the impossible--I'm your imagination." I stare at them, dumbfounded. "I don't understand.” "You don't need to," they say. "But know this—we didn't do it alone." I frown. "I didn't see anyone else." They smile, pointing toward the horizon. "The Reader has been with us the whole time." "The Reader?" I echo. "Reader of what?" "Your story," they say. "They've been following it from the beginning." I sit there for a moment, letting their words sink in. Then I nod. "They're still here, aren't they?" "They are," they reply. "And you should thank them." “Why is that?” “Because,” they say with a grin. “They could have stopped reading at any time.” I nod, understanding washing over me. Then I turn toward the horizon, a smile tugging at my lips. "Thank you, Reader. Thank you for getting me home. I couldn't have done it without you." I wake up.