There once was a monkey. He held on tightly to a large stone.
This stone was very large; and very, very tall.
On it was carved a face. On the face was carved a smile.

The monkey was very afraid, for he could feel the vast space that surrounded him.
Scampering around the large stone, he was worried about falling. Surely if he lost grasp of the giant stone, he would die.
So he held on very tightly—for dear life, one might say.

One day, he could take it no longer and he leaped from the stone. Reaching out, he grasped to hold onto something… and the stone was there.

Yet still the monkey worried. He could feel the vast space—the emptiness that surrounded him and the stone.
Again he leaped. Again, the stone was there.
Every time the monkey couldn’t hang on anymore, he would leap out—grasping—and the stone was there.

Still the monkey worried.
What if he was to slip off and fall?
He could feel the endless void below him. Surely this would be the end of him…

One day, he did slip… and began to fall.
He kept falling. And falling.
And falling.
Endlessly, it seemed to him, he fell through space.

Then he reached out…
And the stone was there.