A single line moves left to right, from a flat start into the ordinary turbulence of living, and ends by dividing into three: one rising, one falling, and one that simply continues the original line unchanged. Even that unchanged path arrives larger than it began — nothing dramatic is required to accumulate. The rising path takes the most force, the falling one less; the choice between them is left open. What ends here is more than what started, and none of it returns to where the line began.