Walking...

I walk, alone, along the path that lay before me. The sky was a sickening blue, the kind of colour that I didn't really enjoy because it reminded me of a time that was impossible to get at, a time of peace, happiness and comfort. There was none of this to be had.

I keep on walking. The sun beat down upon my head as ruthlessly as it can possibly be, while the wind howled against my face in as harsh a manner as it could. Each step that I take feels leaden. Dead. A strong sense of discomfort that was incongruous with the paradoxical weather.

I walk on. I have to walk on. Behind me I could hear the pitter-patter foot-steps of those who are in pursuit of me. My pursuers sounded like they were in a hurry, but they never managed to catch up, even as I take my heavy steps forward at a walking pace. It didn't sound possible. No, it was just not possible. No wait. It is possible. Under one and only one circumstance.

I am dreaming. I have to be. Otherwise it will make no sense.

Realising that I am dreaming, the sky transmogrified itself. The sun no longer beat upon my brow, the wind no longer blasted through my skin as though it weren't there. The same footsteps that I had been taking suddenly feel less heavy. But the heart, my heart, I can still feel the heaviness there.

No.

I cannot be dreaming, can I? This walk, I have to take this walk. From where I was to where I will be. I cannot avoid it. Perpetual pursuers aside. I cannot stop. I cannot return. This is real -- is it not the dirt that I feel between my toes as I take each deliberate step forward?

From afar, I can hear the increased hurriedness that my pursuers had. There was an unmistakeable sound. No way to mistake it, ever. But I still just keep walking. No other way about it.

I have to continue the trip. I have to make it to where I had to go. It doesn't matter if they catch up with me -- they can't catch up with me. I need to be at my destination, no matter the cost.

Especially if I am truly dreaming.

If I can't even reach my goal in my dream, how am I supposed to reach it in real life?

I stuck my hands deep into my pockets and kept my head low. The sun became relentless once more, and the wind continued its merciless cut through me. Far behind me, the pursuers were still chasing, but they never sounded any closer than they were just a short moment before.

It is going to be a long way left. I hope I can reach it before I wake up.

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 05-Jan-2014 21:59:00)