Out of the endless white and grey, a speck appeared. It blossomed into a line and steadily grew until it seemed to tower above them. Peter had begun to wonder if they would ever reach it when the boat stopped with a dull clang and unseated him. He flailed for purchase and found himself holding something thin and flat. Their boat had struck the line, no longer as distant as they had thought.
“What is it?” asked Alice, clearly excited.
Peter leaned carefully over the side of the boat and, now no longer seen from side-on, the line resolved itself into a ladder stretching up into the sky.
“It’s our stop, I think,” he said.
He held the boat steady while Alice clambered over him, gave him a stern glance he assumed pertained to the skirt she was wearing, grasped a rung, and began to climb.