IRC-Galleria

I was meandering along a shadowy path, a path I'd never explored before. I was most certainly lost. Or no, not entirely, for I could have retraced my steps back to where I'd first set foot upon this worn forest route. That, however, did not seem like an option at the time. I knew what was back there: familiar streets of gray gravel and black asphalt. I had no wish to return to the colorless past, and it was a long way back.

It had been ages since I had felt so alive and I was feeling reckless. I was already deep in the woods, following the narrow dirt path lined by tall pines and spruces. An occasional glimpse through the treetops showed a sky covered with clouds and a rare glimmer of one lone star. It felt as though that single star was illuminating my way deeper into the dark forest.

With no clue as to where I was headed, I merely wished to follow the path and see where it went. It seemed like a fine enough purpose. Go further, step by step and not worry about the coming daybreak. For I knew that the morning was approaching. I knew it from the smell and the sounds; from the fragrance of the dew, from the whisper of the woods.

Something in my subconscious did not want the night to end. Something yearned for a conclusion. Would I find an open glade under the night sky where I could admire that star, or would the clouds hide its light and envelope me in darkness, to be blinded at dawn by the searing rays of the sun? Or was I to walk eternally along this path, following this Morning Star?