Grasping at ribbons, she considers at the worst possible time the exact formulations of gerund phrases, forgetting for a critical moment that her primary drive should be her own salvation, not that it was likely anyway. Hurled from safety into the ventilation shaft and finding it filled with the grey and golden streamers, she knows even as she passes the event horizon and out of reach that they never would have held her weight in the first place, and so she prays. She prays that her prayer all those years ago was something she meant and not something she meant to mean, and that she will fall through the floor and onto the other side and find that death can't stop her. Or that a giant turbine at the bottom will turn on and carry her up through the glittering ribbons and back to where she started, so she can mean to mean things all over again until she falls back into the shaft.
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