Phreddie, submerged within the Iktoo vision, had gracefully moved through the night. He knew nothing and everything. He moved with an individualistic unity that spiders know. With the light, Phreddie paused — let go. He was only himself, and he was alone.

They looked through the lens onto the world. The lenses appeared as antenna or as the dot of an “i” in a billboard advertisement. Sometimes the Lense were the glass eyes of a doll or a bolt in a bridge. the Lenses looked like other things, things that were not lenses. They made them that way. And They watched those who did not know they were being watched.

They watched — Few knew who They watched, few suspected why They watched.

They had known there were silky webs written over the lense. They noted it and continued to view the thousand million images that were displayed. Flashing into a pause — image selected, narrowed focus: vehicles, sunrise, trees, clouds, dew drops on a spider web, spider web written over the lense, pedestrian walkway. They narrowed more: the web’s design led toward the horizon, and They looked through the woven circular patterns toward the eastern horizon.

Feeling spiny, Phreddie fell forward, intuiting. The vague sensations fuzzed out his attention. He spun forward. Within, he trusted his vision to flow toward the source. He did not fully trust these episodes, but he thought, “This is happening to me, so it is me. I am me and all others. Together we dance as we feel and see through sight, the vision which is understanding without knowing.”

On the edges of the web, out of the lenses’ sight, he let go. Inwardly, he let himself fall. He could only do as he could do, and he could only act as he could act. He follows what is and had occurred. He acts — so it occurs. He has no other memories but this memory — he remembers eternity is this moment, and Phreddie finds himself within another moment and another eternity. Each eternity is the only eternity. Eternally, he discovers a new moment which is eternity.

Within Infinity, grandmother dreams. Her dreams become. At this moment she visions colors and web strands lit by turquoise, fuchsia, and orange, colorful silk alternating in “X” strands. She giggles and spiders began dancing. Spiders danced in chorus as she moved rhythmically. 1-4-2-8-5-7 while her third and eighth legs were motionless. One divided itself into seven. It was math, and math wrote rhythm.

Iktoo visioned an eye. The eye was watching. They had glass eyes — countless eyes looking. They were watching the physical world, where light is slowed into solids. The eyes looked and recorded information. They were watching what they could not see. They saw physical movements of the externalized dream. They could not see the dream, but they began to suspect they did not remember. Grandmother dreams and dances. They watch and record.