Dick and Jane both stopped.

There was no way to leave the park.

Spot barked. The trail ended. They had come into the park, taking Spot for a much-needed walk. The sun had been shining. The sky was blue. Spot had greatly enjoyed playing with his ball. Both Dick and Jane had greatly enjoyed throwing it to the dog. He had brought it back every single time.

But now, all three of them stood at the edge. The trail and the park had abruptly ended, and they simply could not leave.

"What do we do. Dick?" Jane asked.

"I don't know, Jane," Dick said. "It just ends. I don't know what to do."

Dick looked at Spot. Spot kept barking at the void. Dick looked at Jane. She looked back. There was an uneasy feeling in all of them that this was IT.

Dick had felt this feeling before. He never talked with Jane about his deepest fears. She had no idea, though he sometimes wondered if she thought the same. They couldn't talk about it. Even in their most private moments, with Spot curled up on the corner of the enormous bed, they had never honestly shared the frights that shook them to their internal core.

Now it happened. The park had ended. The path had run out. The page ahead was blank.

Was it because the words had been set aside? Had they been shared but not read? Had it all ceased to exist because they had not been perceived?

"Oh God! Dick? What do we do?"

Dick tamped down the fear and steeled himself.

"We go on," he said. "The page isn't blank. We forge our way using the words we do have."