Imagine then, a small, insignificant-looking cell with a long tail that whips rapidly back and forth like a propeller. The cell has been on a long and dangerous journey through uncharted waters, and it is now tired from the exertion. Its purpose this far has been almost instinctive, fighting tirelessly against the tide to climb higher and higher up the terrifying darkness.
Surrounding it are millions of other whip-tailed cells, its cousins, all tied into that same inscrutable goal. And yet, the tiny wanderer, our hero cell, pushes on valiantly. It is a matter of life and death because only a handful will reach their destination.
Light appears, or at least to the tiny wanderer, the change of the chemical composition around it signals the final stages of the voyage. There is no light, really, only a quickening of purpose...
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