My story would begin in darkness though not total darkness but not romantic moonlit darkness either. It would be more the darkness that accompanies a storm. The kind that diffuses the the light and casts strange shadows across the land. The kind that causes the street lamps to come on at mid-day.
I stand at the gate looking out at the road that lies before me, uncertain which direction to go from here. Do I open the gate and step through? Or do I run back to the porch and ride out the storm in the relative comfort of the crumbling structure I am seeking to escape? Do I stay until the bitter end?
I stand at the gate and look back. Indecision has me paralyzed and the storm is increasing in intensity. I feel the wind at my back and it causes me to shiver. I adjust my collar and huddle down to make myself a smaller target for the chill breeze and once again turn to look at the road before me just a step beyond the gate.
I stand at the gate and my eyes search for any sign of direction. Off in the distance I see rays of sunlight that quickly retreat into shadow as I watch, teasing me with hope that is transient and elusive. I’m too old to go chasing after “maybes” and “what-ifs.” I need a sure thing. Yet I realize how unreasonable and unrealistic that standard is. There are no “sure things” and to make that a requirement will only keep me paralyzed with indecision.
I stand at the gate…
Hope »
I Stand at the Gate
Monday, October 10, 2016 by persifler
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