I took a step through the archway and into a room that was long and narrow, the size and shape of a room you might play billiards in but infinitely longer. It was hewn out of the same sandstone as the staircase, there no windows but high above me i heard the soft cooing of birds, but I could not see them as i looked skywards. I do not know the source of the breeze that cooled my skin, but this did not seem to bother. The room was full of plinths, down the length of the room parallel to the walls. Upon these plinths sat monks, cross legged in the most cliche was possible, as I walked the length of the room I saw some of the monks were real, sat perfectly still, their shallow breaths barely moving their loose fitting robes from their chests. Others were statues, made of the same stone as the building they were in. I don’t know how i knew this because as i walked i could not tell them apart. I knew some were statues and some were men, but even in this brightly lit and airy room, i could not tell them apart, at times they seemed like they were both flesh and sandstone, I knew this to be impossible.