Imagine entering into a multiplex theater having an infinite number of screens.  You settle on one, enter that auditorium, select your seat and with a bottomless container of hot buttered popcorn on your lap, you settle in to await the show.

The house lights dim, the curtain is drawn and the performance begins to unfold before you.

Soon you have suspended all disbelief.  You are drawn into the narrative.  You feel that you are experiencing, along with the actors, the same joy and pain, happiness and pathos.

You become so much a part of the story that you have no memory of an existence apart from it.

And then, all too soon, the final credits begin to roll as the theme music comes up with a swell.  The house lights are on once again and the curtain is drawn.

You leave that auditorium and return to the lobby.  It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust and for the memory of the performance you have just witnessed to fade but reality has returned.

You look around at the crowd of people all selecting which auditorium to enter, choose another for yourself and it begins again.