Revisiting the House of Stone

I walk up to the door, still only mostly finished, now knowing how to find this place from the outside. 

"Hey, dawn is nearly breaking, but I wanted to swing by. I feel like I heard you this morning, and as I considered what was being said, I realized that I only have this perspective, which gives me hope. For if this story has repeated, I am unaware. If this story repeats in parallel, I have seen glimpses of how it may have played out before, but if this story is not the last of its kind, then how am I so aware of writing these words now? Even a functionally infinite string of stories has a final, perfect, iteration. Since my belief in God remains that this is that perfect iteration, and I cannot recall what happened before a few decades before now, who am I to say the precise path that was taken between the resurrection, well really the end of Acts, and when my memory begins? What I am saying is that I do not know how we have arrived so beautifully here, but I believe that we have, and fundamentally that I will see eep bloom with my own eyes. I believe that there is not much time left until that day comes, but in case you did make a request for a few more additions, I wanted to oblige. 

What if you had a kind of window that could only be seen from the inside? A one way mirror that you could mark as you saw fit? I imagine you could then communicate to the ravens on how to use it, tapping at precise positions to pass messages through what looked to be solid stone. I imagine I might have planted an olive tree back here some time ago, so they would have a place to stand and you wouldn't have to stoop or kneel to read them. 

Also, I have left some books by my bed, but I have considered that bed to be ours for some time, just in a state of grace until the proper time comes. I can imagine that would mean those books could be seen and felt and even read, in whatever bed you are in, should agreement suit to craft reality as thoroughly as it seems to and I believe it does.

And finally I consider a kind of portal, located behind that curtain on your wall, one most singularly difficult to locate. A dreamer must already be aware of it, having been shown the way, and wander to it purely on instinct; only then can one enter, and only in innocence alone. I imagine I have found and walked through it from time to time, likely in a semi-formed state as my innocence does not fully imbue me. You however could use this same door to leave as well, possibly semi-formed yourself (who am I to know for certain?), and wander until you can find a ride, someone willing to pick you up. The other end, you will find, is somewhere in the library, but it is not generally a door, and the precise location is always a bit of a surprise. I imagine you can use it to travel to and fro, if things get too crowded to use the trapdoor, or you're just looking for a different point of view.

Alright, well I hope I've helped, I always like to think that I can, but I am eager to hear the specifics from your perspective. I wish only the best for you, that your wildest dreams come true, and more, if that is still a good possibility."

I turn to leave the side of her house in its quiet clearing in these enchanted woods. I consider though and turn back, and I fill with joy as I see a young tree, only about 4 feet tall, branches brushing up against her house in her backyard. I have no idea if it is an olive tree or not, what am I, a botanist? Still, the sight of ravens flying overhead fills me with hope as I make my way back home.