The Two Gorges.
He had walked out of the gorge, a place of fertile chaos, and into the foothills of a new reality. The underpass, "el primero de muchos," was a sign of what was to come—a world of underpasses and overpasses, of man-made barriers and concrete paths. He had chosen to follow the yellow arrows out of the multiplex, a wart of a place that promised many options but delivered only one answer. He was a Son of Seth using Cain's own tools to escape the trap of the world he had created. He found a quiet, hidden reward for his choice. The bull ants at his feet, small and determined, were a living testament to a world that would endure. The yellow arrows, which he had once seen as a symbol of external order, were now a sign of his own freedom, pointing not to the aisles of a supermarket, but to Santiago. The Carrefour and its meaningless aisles were buried in its own gorge, a void that had consumed itself with its own consumption. He was a pilgrim in two worlds now. The olives on his ...