my foot brushes against the hot sand

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my foot brushes against hot sand

the road at my feet is bare

what bits of gravel left kicked to the sides

ruts continuing around the bend

the road is well traveled



as it winds through the country

small white farmhouses

mingling with rolling wheat fields


the scalding asphalt

sits in the middle of a jungle

forging a path through sky scrapers

shabby brick apartment buildings

revving engines and honking horns



numerous crossroads shoot out in all directions

I can take whichever one I want

and see something new on each street


two vastly different terrains lay ahead

waiting patiently for first steps


the harsh yellow light radiating from the lamp

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the harsh yellow light radiating from the lamp

does nothing to help me find my way along the gravel lined road I walk


the faint outline of a body visible to my left

I reach out for the friend walking beside me

my hand fumbles through the darkness

searching through the pitch black air for the warmth of a hand to hold

all it finds is my shadow

my hand drops heavily to my side as I stumble on


a gust of wind blows through

pushing me along what I hope is still the street


the light flickers

goes out


a thought lingers in the back of my mind

trickles along my nerves

telling me I should stop

give up

but I can’t


I must continue down this road

searching for another light

to show me the way home