  Through the Archway, stepping down the tiled hall, a slam of the spring motioned door. 108 step descent, avoiding the cracks in the walkway, and over the rain soaked grass. Grid of streets, nods to various pedestrians, and glances offered to the casual observers. City sign left long behind, copse's more common than commerce, and the beckoning hills. Thrill of discovery, bliss in all lost and forgotten, joy in making it back to you. 
