This one is wet. The last one was dry. The next one will be dry again.
Somebody will say something that curls, and curls, and grows and turns out to be nothing.
A red light will beckon and then disappear. We will want, often, to be merely warm. A blue light will beckon and become everything: world, water, Great Wall and a distant fleck of radiation in the void.
Nothing moves at that distance - Nazareth as seen by the angel - and we may feel for a while like we fit we can love we are deserved.