The Rodeo Of Boundless Things

He stood alone in a large field. While there was a light about the place that would indicate daytime, night sky surrounded him, and he guessed rightly the firmament had given way to the open galaxy.
From the horizon a man was striding towards him, and at the speed with which he did so, physics stood again disbanded, and the man deduced the lines at which the ground disappeared represented not the horizon, but a drop-off altogether unnatural.

At the newcomer's approach, his appeance became clear and startling- he was in the dress and bearing of the perfect 18^th century aristocrat. In dusty khakis, denim shirt and battered stetson, our hero felt distinctly under dressed.
The little lord introduced himself as Virgil and bowed courteously. The other man grunted and stuck out his hand: “Adam.” he mumbled. Virgil delicately shook hands and then brushed his on his long emerald green coat.

“I believe you will benefit from a sort of tour?” he asked with an air of neither curiosity nor concern. Adam made a show of surveying the skies, hands on his hips, neck craned and eyes squinting. What first seemed a black expanse pocked with stars was revealing itself to be a pulsing, shifting symphony of muted colors, changing and flowing in and out of subtle shades.
“I reckon.” he said. Virgil sighed and turned, his back now to Adam, facing the cosmos.

“Ecce Firmamentum!” He bellowed, arms flung wide. “What is here before you displayed, dear mortal, is the great congress of infinities, the crossroads of all divergent paths, all possibilities beginning and alternative met at a focal point of boundless destiny!” he said, beginning an obviously much-delivered opening monologue.
“Buddy, let me stop you there.” Adam inturrupted. “Just what in the hell does that all mean?” he asked, scratching his head.
Virgil turned, and seemed shocked. He did enjoy his speech. “This is...a kind of staging area.” he said.

“Why, it's exactly as I told you,” he explained to Adam's blank stare. “Everything in your life that has endless possibilities, everything that has an unknowable depth, meets here. All of your loves but none of your hates. Every missed opportunity but none of those wasted. Every grand potentiality of your life empties into this place.”

“seems powerfully subjective, to me.” Adam answered in his drawl. Virgil shrugged and led Adam away for a handful of steps, and they came to a brass plate on the ground, about the size of a small dinner table. On it was incribed, 'First Loves'. Next to it was a larger plate that read 'Wrong Turns'.

“Well how come they're not the same size?' Adam asked, puzzled.

“Why, some infinities are bigger than others.” Virgil said. “Care to take one for a spin?” He asked. Adam spat and strolled over to a collection of plates, stopping first at “Promises Which Follow A Break -Up”, “Excuses You Could Have Chosen To Believe”, and “Free Kittens”; but passing it up to stand atop a plate bearing the words “Travel Plans Made While Intoxicated”. There was a blinding white light that faded quickly, and nothing seemed changed, but Virgil was gone. A moment passed and Adam saw him aproaching again from the distance. He once more, but not reduntantly, asked if Adam required a tour, and introduced himself as Virgil. Puzzled, Adam urged him to 'G'on ahead' and Virgil began his speech anew, seemingly oblivious to the repition. One line in, however Adam halted the refrain.

“Now hang on- I was just here, we just done all this!” he complained.

“Well, yes, you would think it's all the same thing, wouldn't you? All of your new roads taken lead to yet more opportunities.”
“Well, that there just strikes me as awful esoteric and frankly, predictable!” Adam exclaimed, knocking his Stetson back off his brow in disbelief.

“Then you'd might as well wake up.” Virgil said stiffly.

And I did, hungover as hell.