The sun is casting its heavenly rays, cloaking me in a vibrant cloth of canary. In stark contrast to the vibrance that is embracing me though, I feel dull and lifeless.
Pieces of my soul lay scattered in this crossroad. I do not know which path to follow, which piece of soul to favor. All I know is that right in the middle of this crossroad, I am whole.
My body trembles, and I feel like my center of gravity is at the wrong spot, rendering me unstable. I am frightened to take my first step, especially because I do not know which direction I am going to take, nor do I have enough courage to lose what is at stake.
A distant swooshing, like the flapping of multiple wings, enters my ears. By each ticking second, the swooshing becomes more pronounced. It is closing in. I watch, dumbfounded, as the grasses flanking the sides of the roads sway chaotically, disturbing the serenity that was present just a few moments ago. The calm I’ve been craving for, I think. I’m badly disordered.
The swooshing is apparently coming from the blades of a helicopter, I learn, as the helicopter halts just above me, a hovering stillness that can cause so much unstableness. A rope ladder tumbles, tauntingly inviting.
It is right in front of me: sweet escape. I just have to extend my arms, stand on my toes and reach for it. There it is now. I can leave this crossroad without having to make a crucial decision, neglect my responsibility in exchange for freedom.
Freedom. It is like a drug to me. Exhilarating. Ephemeral.
I raise my arms, like a little child yearning to be lifted, and grab the ladder.
And then the helicopter flies away while I stare at my feet planted firmly on the ground in the middle of the crossroad.