The Path, Part 1

Along the path were walls and ceiling made of crushed glass, the floor a mix of thorns and jagged rocks. All sides were close to my body, sharp to the touch, and cutting me as I rubbed against them. The horrible way was well defined. I could not stray or escape to a different route. The slow movement through this tunnel, of sorts, was dark and lonely. I could hear voices from outside the walls; encouraging, loving, crying. As the days of traveling through this painful gauntlet passed, I realized that the tunnel was getting slightly larger. I didn’t rub up against the glass shards as often. The floor had less thorns pricking my bare feet.

One day, the tunnel began to open up to a new place. The walls grew farther apart until I could see an end to them up ahead. The space that I saw beyond was open, barren, and bleak. The sky was dark with thick black storm clouds hiding the sun. There was no defined trail. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing. A prodding within me said “keep going.” I continued to move my feet not knowing direction or destination…

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