You crawl carefully towards...

the crack in the earth, wondering if the dirt you're crawling across is nothing more than an outcropping over an abyss. You tenderly place your fingers on the edge, noticing that the dirt is warm to the touch. You begin to feel lightheaded, as if the air around you has been emptied of oxygen. Yet you press forward, your trembling hands knocking loose bits of dirt into the crack, causing streaks of light to pop up and out like independence sparklers.

You dig your hands into the edge and the crack begins to crumble and widen, brightening at the edges like smoldering paper and falling in with a flash. Your head swims as the crack widens, and the world tilts like a pinball machine and you feel the magnet-pull of the light inside. The last thing you see as it all turns white is the milestone's pattern gleaming in relief, while the grass around it's base blanches and turns towards ash.