fiction:)
Yesterday she discovered a forest by the sea.
Can you imagine it? The blue, vast, sparkling sea and a little distance away from those sunny shores, a verdant expanse of dense foliage, trees grown together which seem to be whispering something in the distance, with a certain proud disregard for the noon sun. Their shade after all, is dark, cool and beckoning.
She stood at a distance and watched the forest.
There was a road,a winding road which took a turn into the yawning depths of those greens. A lonely road it must be, for there was no one to tread on it, to explore those turns and twists and revel in that journey.
She didn't want to step on that road.
It seemed perfect from a distance. What if she took that road, crossed that turn and found a glossy mansion at the end with perfectly manicured lawns and symmetric windows with tassled curtains, flanking a superbly polished door.
What if the road became a familiar geographic relief carved out of logical explanations and derviable conclusions. Each step would be deterministic, predictable and precise. A calculated journey spanning equations and certainity - measurable and finite.
She decided she didn't want to think about where the road ended, if it ended at all or whether it continued on endlessly into some strange wild lands, with myths travelling along whispering their strange endings, swirling continuously fascinating weary travelers.
She stood at a distance and watched the forest.
It was the most basic instinct ever known. Probably it escaped out of Pandora's box as a precursor to hope - Curiousity. That burning desire to know. A ringing phone has to be answered, a noise in the distance has to be investigated, a crowd on the road must be queried, a road silent and lonely has to be walked upon.
She took her first step towards that road.
Can you imagine it? The blue, vast, sparkling sea and a little distance away from those sunny shores, a verdant expanse of dense foliage, trees grown together which seem to be whispering something in the distance, with a certain proud disregard for the noon sun. Their shade after all, is dark, cool and beckoning.
She stood at a distance and watched the forest.
There was a road,a winding road which took a turn into the yawning depths of those greens. A lonely road it must be, for there was no one to tread on it, to explore those turns and twists and revel in that journey.
She didn't want to step on that road.
It seemed perfect from a distance. What if she took that road, crossed that turn and found a glossy mansion at the end with perfectly manicured lawns and symmetric windows with tassled curtains, flanking a superbly polished door.
What if the road became a familiar geographic relief carved out of logical explanations and derviable conclusions. Each step would be deterministic, predictable and precise. A calculated journey spanning equations and certainity - measurable and finite.
She decided she didn't want to think about where the road ended, if it ended at all or whether it continued on endlessly into some strange wild lands, with myths travelling along whispering their strange endings, swirling continuously fascinating weary travelers.
She stood at a distance and watched the forest.
It was the most basic instinct ever known. Probably it escaped out of Pandora's box as a precursor to hope - Curiousity. That burning desire to know. A ringing phone has to be answered, a noise in the distance has to be investigated, a crowd on the road must be queried, a road silent and lonely has to be walked upon.
She took her first step towards that road.
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